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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25553512">catcher</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/n7punk/pseuds/n7punk'>n7punk</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Sports, Body Worship, Drunk Catra is a cat on catnip, F/F, Getting Back Together, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, In which almost everybody is a lesbian sorry not sorry, Modern AU but still different species, Mutual Pining, Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra)'s A+ Parenting, Smut, Top Adora (She-Ra), Trans Perfuma (She-Ra), background scorfuma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:20:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>46,860</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25553512</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/n7punk/pseuds/n7punk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They were the best duo net-ball had ever seen – selected and trained together since childhood to be perfectly synchronized partners. Then Adora disappeared the day before signing her renewal contract with the Horde. Catra has to find out she has signed to a different team on the <i>news</i>.<br/>They are bitter exes, bitter rivals. At least to Catra. Adora is still trying to explain what happened - and get her back.<br/>(AKA the AU where I know so little about sports I invent my own just to get Catra and Adora to hook up in a bathroom. Also Shadow Weaver is here and no one wants her to be. And there's barely any sports).</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adora/Catra (She-Ra)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>159</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>607</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Catradora AUs by n7punk</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Party Pt. 1: The Bathroom</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Smut is contained in separate chapters to make it easy to skip for those who want to avoid it, though I won't promise things won't get thirsty in the regular chapters. Chapters 1, 6, and 10 are smut chapters. The beginning and very end of Chapter 1 still definitely need to be read for the story to make any sense, however.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay, I know there is a real sport called netball, but I'm sticking with the name for the fake-sport in this AU because they play ice/net-ball in the show a couple times. Real netball players are gonna have to deal. I needed to make a sport that was kind of similar to battle and had paired partners so here it is. It's a duos game, but each team has five duos out on the court at once.<br/>I have no justification for this. It’s absolute filth that I am moderately ashamed to be posting it. It came to me as a single scene (that hasn't happened yet) and I tried to forget it but couldn’t and it spiraled into THIS.<br/>Adora and Catra are both about 20-21 in this AU. Glimmer and Bow are around the same. Scorpia, Perfuma, etc are all mid-to-late 20s. Everyone is still the species they are in the show but instead of being magical Princesses they're just wicked good athletes. Adora is also maybe the AU's equivalent to the Lindbergh baby – don’t ask.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Catra’s back is to her when she enters the room – it does not matter. The second her scent hits the air all the fur on Catra’s neck bristles. Even in this overcrowded party house, new sweat and alcohol pouring over the soaked-in scents of old alcohol and vomit, Catra immediately attunes to her partner’s scent.</p><p><em>Ex-partner</em>, she thinks bitterly as she turns around, eyes finally landing on her.</p><p>Adora hasn’t seen her, yet. She is bent over, doing that patient nod she always does when she is not listening to a word someone is saying to her. One of her new teammates is hanging off her shoulders, a few inches shorter and forcing her to bend down so she can talk in her ear over the music of the party. Catra feels anger seethe in her stomach when she looks at the sparkly-haired girl. Catra has read her dossier. Glimmer, daughter to the Bright Moon team’s owner and manager, a demi-mortal raised up in the sport - just like them. Her times are good, stats decent, but she has all the agility of a goat. Catra feels herself sneer as she looks the other woman up and down. She knows Glimmer is one of the Bright Moon players heavily rumoured to be Adora’s new partner – her <em>replacement</em>.</p><p>It is that thought that has her storming forward, abandoning Scorpia and Entrapta mid-conversation. It was not even a conversation, not really – Scorpia was rambling on about something Catra did not give a shit about, more focused on wondering where hard liquor was being kept so she could just forget her worries her awhile. Now her worry has waltzed in the room, Catra can’t bury it anymore.</p><p>Adora, for all her prowess on the court, has absolutely no awareness once she steps out of it. She does not notice Catra until Catra has a hand fisted in the front of her hoodie and is physically dragging her forward.</p><p>“Catra- What the fuck- Hey!” Adora stammers out, eyes widening in shock as Catra turns and starts walking away without introduction or words, dragging Adora out from under the arm of the other woman and <em>out of the room</em>.</p><p>Vaguely, Catra is aware of the other woman protesting and calling after them. The blood is pounding too hard in Catra’s ears for her to really listen. She feels only anger and a stupid, traitorous thrill that sings through her heart when Adora stumbles after her, letting herself be led. Adora is strong – Catra has experienced it as her partner on and off the court. If she wanted to dig in her heels, she would do it without hesitation. Catra preens at how she follows her, demanding acknowledgement the whole way, but following even as Catra does not give it to her.</p><p>Catra leads them out of the overcrowded living room, narrowing her eyes when they land on a door in the hallway. This is a party house and they are smart about it – a sign labels it as a bathroom with a tub. Great, it is going to stink of tub juice, but Catra just needs to get Adora <em>alone right now</em>.</p><p>Catra opens the door and shoves Adora inside, pulling the door shut harshly behind her. The music is still achingly loud through the door, but she can hear her own breathing again, and no one else is here to overhear them. <em>Or accidentally see them</em>, Catra thinks, as she reaches her hand back to lock the handle on the door. Finally, she lets herself take Adora in.</p><p>Adora looks like she is trying to be angry. She is frustrated, certainly, hands balled in fists at her side, breath coming out a little heavy, arms tensed like she is half expecting a fight – it would be fair to, the last time they parted certainly could not be called a <em>civil conversation</em>. Her eyes are narrowed, but they have that terrible hopeful look in them she keeps fixing Catra with. Catra hates it – she looks away from her face quickly, choosing to instead slide her gaze down Adora’s body.</p><p>She certainly has not been neglecting her training. The muscles in her arms flex as she tenses and untenses her fists. She is dressed appropriately for an athlete’s party, cropped hoodie over a sports bra showing off her abs and an absolutely indecent pair of jogging shorts straining over what little part of her thighs they cover. The effect is only slightly cut by the fact she is still wearing her soccer socks with a pair of slides – some things never change.</p><p>Part of Catra bitterly wonders if Adora had any idea she would be here tonight, or if she was dressing this way for someone <em>else</em>.</p><p>“You aren’t even going to look me in the eye?” Adora demands into the silence. Catra narrows her eyes, wanting to keep her gaze away just to be petulant, but-</p><p>Demanding Adora has always done things to her. Catra meets her gaze head-on. Adora looks <em>frustrated</em> still, but a flush has started to creep down her neck that tells Catra it is starting to lean towards the fun kind.</p><p>“I have nothing to say to you, <em>princess</em>,” Catra challenges back, raising an eyebrow as she throws her new team’s mascot in her face. Adora has the nerve to bark out a laugh at that, turning away from her to run a hand over her hair. It musses her ponytail a bit – Catra wants to yank it out.</p><p>“So you just dragged me away from my teamma- away from my <em>friends</em> to leer at me and be on your way?” Adora asks, sarcastically, throwing her head back to stare at the ceiling. Catra does not miss the way she avoids <em>who</em> she is at the party with – why Catra doesn’t fit in that category anymore. “You’re the one who dumped me, Catra,” Adora says, like she has the fucking <em>right</em>.</p><p>Fury sparks behind Catra’s eyes. The next thing she knows she is moving, pinning Adora against the bathroom wall, actually <em>growling</em> at her in a way she has not done in years. Adora, to her credit, does not look afraid. She meets Catra’s eyes with a hard glare – but Catra knows Adora, can see the undercurrent of hurt there.</p><p>“<em>I’m</em> not the one who ran off and signed to someone else, stranding my <em>best fucking friend</em> without a partner. I <em>am</em> the one who had to find out on the fucking <em>news</em>, Adora!” Catra hisses, shouts, maybe even screams in her face. They have had this fight before, but she is <em>angry</em> and she has every right to be. Adora left her – left her over some <em>working conditions</em> like it wasn’t something they had been dealing with their whole lives. She makes two friends on a different team and suddenly she is abandoning Catra, seven months still left on <em>her</em> contract, to go to some soft team where they get <em>pampered</em>. “Pathetic,” Catra growls, even if Adora can’t hear her inner monologue.</p><p>Adora looks – fucked up. Sorry, hurt, remorseful – all the things she <em>isn’t</em>.</p><p>“Catra, I told you, the way the Horde treats its players – if you would just visit another team <em>once</em> you would see it doesn’t have to be that way,” Adora tries, again, like she does every time they have this fight. Catra is fed up. She doesn’t want Adora to trying to poach her again. Unlike Adora, she <em>knew</em> that already.</p><p>“I told <em>you</em> I can handle it, unlike you. I’m not following in your fucking shadow anymore, Adora. I’m the best damn player on the team without you. I’ve got a new partner, now. I don’t <em>need</em> you,” Catra spits, leaning in to show her fangs as she speaks. It is a useless display against Adora and she knows it – more likely to turn her on than threaten her – but the <em>words</em> make Adora’s face crumple. <em>Good</em>. Crumple like Catra had, suddenly all alone in that prison of a training facility they called a sports complex, no one to watch her back or even hold her hand anymore.</p><p>Something in Adora’s broken expression hardens. She pushes forward, not trying to leave the wall where Catra still has her pinned, but getting up in her space. Challenging her in the way they used to in <em>play</em>.</p><p>This isn’t a game anymore.</p><p>“Then why did you drop everything to get me alone, Catra?” Adora asks, voice hard, but her gaze is searching. Looking for any gap in Catra’s armour where she can worm in and make herself at home in Catra’s chest again. Catra glares at her. She has always hated when Adora called her out, but she certainly is not going to tell her that she is <em>right</em>. That she <em>misses</em> her. Still <em>loves</em> her.</p><p>“I don’t need you. I can be a better shot-caller than you ever were. I wanted something else from you,” she tells the other women - she doesn’t wait for her to answer.</p><p>She surges forward and claims her lips.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Adora’s tenuous control snaps the second Catra presses against her. She yanks her wrists free from Catra grip, ignores the claws that slide over her skin dangerously, but remain mercifully withdrawn despite how worked up Catra is, and grabs at Catra’s waist. She flips them, pinning Catra against the wall with her whole body, kissing back with just as much ferocity as Catra had first met her with.</p><p>Catra hisses into the kiss but doesn’t fight her – not really. She doesn’t make any move to embrace her back, hands dropping to her sides in fists, but she kisses Adora like she has been <em>drowning</em> without her.</p><p>Well, at least <em>that</em> feeling is still mutual.</p><p>Adora knows she is not in a good headspace for this – not that there <em>is</em> a good headspace for one-sided hatesex with your ex who you never actually, technically, formally broke things off with <em>because you never wanted to</em>. But still, she knows she has been a wreck, spiraling out in every way but physically. Her body has never been in better shape – because training is all she can do to keep from drowning in guilt, memories, and thoughts of <em>Catra</em>.</p><p>Adora doesn’t want to think anymore. Doesn’t want to drown her feelings in alcohol like Glimmer had so healthily suggested. There is only one thing she wants, and she may not be getting her <em>back</em>, but she can at least taste her again.</p><p>Adora shoves a thigh between Catra’s legs, reveling in the groan that elicits from her shorter partner. She runs her hands up her body, palming her breasts – because of <em>course</em> Catra had to show up to this party in a bralette and not even the <em>guise</em> of a shirt. Adora wants to be mad about it, but she can’t when it makes it so easy for her to slide a hand inside, pinching carefully at her nipple. Catra groans into the kiss, biting down harshly on Adora’s lip as her hips stutter forward once.</p><p>The loss of control seems to finally get to Catra – she always wanted to be in charge, even when she was on bottom – and she finally tears one of her hands from the wall to grab Adora’s shoulder and force her <em>down</em>.</p><p>“On your knees, princess,” Catra hisses out. Adora could fight her easily. She doesn’t.</p><p>She did say she wanted to taste her again.</p><p>Catra watches her, hard expression softened with lust as Adora undoes the fly of her ripped jeans and pulls them down, greeted with the fact that, like always, Catra has not bothered to wear underwear. Adora looks up, makes eye contact with her one last time as she grips her thighs to spread them further apart, and then buries herself between them. Catra tries to arch up to meet her immediately and Adora reaches up, pinning her hips to the wall so she can get to <em>work</em>. Show Catra what she has been missing.</p><p>Catra doesn’t want her love, not anymore. That’s fine. (It’s not). But Adora can still take care of her. Can still bring her pleasure in a way no one else does. She still <em>knows</em> Catra, knows she doesn’t trust anyone else enough to let them do this. She is the only one who knows how she tastes. The thought shouldn’t make her as hot as it does. It definitely should not make her abandon her grip on Catra’s hips. She knows Catra, and she knows the second she lets go-</p><p>Adora’s hands drop and Catra buries her hands in Adora’s hair, barely having to flick her wrist to cut through Adora’s hair tie. She twists her claws into her hair and <em>pulls</em>. Adora stutters out a moan against Catra’s clit and is rewarded by Catra tightening her grip again, forcing Adora’s head back to change the angle.</p><p>It should already be degrading, to be here in a bathroom at some random team’s party, eating out her ex she is still in love with, but she knew what she was doing the moment she dropped her hands – knew what permission she was giving Catra. Catra’s grip tightens in her hair and she fucks Adora’s mouth.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Turns out five months without actual sex, followed by your incredibly hot ex who you are <em>not</em> still in love dropping to her knees in front of you, will really ramp up the intensity of the orgasm. Catra finds herself panting and breathless as she struggles to come back to herself. By the time she has managed to stop working her hips uselessly into the air, Adora is already standing, pulling Catra's jeans back up and wiping her mouth.</p><p>She used to stay down there, pressing kisses and lovebites to her inner thighs, licking any excess slick out of her fur. The thought definitely does not piss Catra off, or make her grab Adora’s shoulders and flip their positions, shoving her back against the wall.</p><p>She watches Adora’s breath stutter, her eyes dilate, and her hips give an aborted stutter at the sudden loss of control. Adora has always loved it when Catra was in control, always secretly loved the rare occasions when she was the one on bottom. Catra had not planned on actually giving Adora <em>anything</em>. She had planned to yell at her, makeout with her, maybe get off, and then get <em>out</em>. Leave her high and dry like she had left <em>Catra</em>.</p><p>But she watches Adora’s hips twitch, her thighs trembling slightly already, and she realizes how worked up she is just from tasting her. It shouldn’t do things to her, not anymore – but it always has. Catra surges forward, latching her mouth to Adora’s neck and listening to her <em>whine</em> in response. Catra is anything but gentle, biting hard enough there won’t just be indistinct bruises, but twin points of pressure from her fangs.</p><p>It makes Adora practically scream, throwing her head back with her loud cries, hips shifting forward like she expects Catra to actually give her something to grind against. Adora has always been loud when they do this – always spilling forth filthy sounds or dirty words – but Catra hasn’t even touched her yet and she sounds <em>spent</em>.</p><p>“Jesus, Adora, how worked up are you? Still can’t get off without me?” Catra taunts between bruises. Adora’s hands rise to meet her, gripping her waist with a crushing pressure as she tries to pull her forward. Catra doesn’t let her. Adora may be strong, but as soon as Catra resists she stops trying, choosing instead to just clutch at her hips.</p><p>“You know I can’t,” Adora pants, chest heaving. Catra freezes against her.</p><p>She never thought- After Adora left-</p><p>It had started in the showers when they were sixteen, catching each other looking enough times they said <em>fuck it</em> and pushed together to meet one another in an electrifying slide, touching each other but never <em>enough</em>. It had truly started before even that, when they were fourteen and Catra kissed Adora for the first time. It also started after that, when they were seventeen and pressed together in Adora’s bunk, clothes pulled off or hastily bunched up out of the way to finally find out what enough was. It <em>bloomed</em> when they were eighteen and finally no longer Coach Weaver’s foster wards, able to legally get their own place together where they could spend hours tangled in each other’s embrace.</p><p>Adora can, in fact, get off without Catra. She just struggles to do it alone. Sex is all about her partner for Adora, and without a partner, her imagination and own hand can only get her so far. For the first few weeks after Adora left Catra had taken pride in the fact she knew Adora would be struggling to satisfy herself without her. But she had assumed she would have learned by now – at the very least would have found a toy that could get her there. She had <em>feared</em> she would have gotten frustrated enough to fall in bed with another teammate, even though she knew, despite everything, that was not fair to Adora. Adora would do a lot of things to her – like leave her, apparently – but she wouldn’t give this part of herself away to anyone but Catra. She wouldn't cheat on her - even if they weren't technically together anymore.</p><p>Catra slides her hands down Adora’s body, groping her chest through her clothes as she goes. Adora moans again, making a half-hearted attempt to move forward. Catra pushes back, pressing their bodies closer together as her hand finally reaches between Adora’s legs and finds her wet all the way through her shorts. Adora drops her head forward, making eye contact again, and her look is nothing but pleading desire.</p><p>“Catra,” she breathes, and it isn’t a please except for how her voice is <em>begging</em>. Catra hums as if considering, running her fingers up in down the length of her, pressing with gentle pressure against her clit whenever she sweeps up to it.</p><p>“This is only,” Catra starts, trailing her hand all the way up to Adora’s waistband this time, and slipping inside so she can finally <em>meet</em> her, “because you give such good head, princess,” she tells her, fingers finally circling around her clit. She watches the spike of lust and <em>hurt</em> flash across Adora’s face at that.</p><p>They both know what sentence would have followed a statement like that, before all this. <em>Not because I like you</em>. She still doesn’t like her – still loves her, and now hates her, too – but she isn’t going to give Adora the satisfaction of that. She should be grateful she is even giving her an orgasm out of this.</p><p>Resignation seems to tinge Adora’s expression, head titling back to offer her neck as she grinds down into Catra’s touch. Giving up on love, giving in to pleasure. Catra takes the invitation happily – she already has left several bruises across her throat, but she wants Adora to look in the mirror tomorrow and be unable to think of anything but <em>her</em>.</p><p>Catra kisses, sucks, bites down on Adora’s neck as she works her fingers over her, sweeping between pressing teasingly at her entrance and circling and squeezing at her clit. Not enough to get her off – but enough to make her desperate. Adora moans, whines, huffs as Catra works, but she just takes what Catra gives her. It is how she always is – accepting whatever it is <em>Catra</em> wants as what she wants, too.</p><p>Catra sweeps her fingers down to her entrance again, but this time she presses all the way in, going straight to two fingers. She should maybe be more careful – it has been months since they did this, Adora probably can’t take as much as she used to, but she is so worked up Catra isn’t worried about hurting her.</p><p>Adora keens, grinding down on Catra’s fingers as she sets a fast rhythm, movement a little restricted by Adora’s shorts still trapped around her thighs. She pulls back to survey her girlfr- <em>ex-partner</em>.</p><p>Adora’s neck is a mess. Someone two blocks away would be able to tell she slept with a magicat – those fang impressions don’t leave much to the imagination. A flush has spilled all the way down her face and disappeared under the collar of her top. Her muscles are tensed, standing out clearly even in the shitty bathroom lighting. In her fever she has worked up a sweat that makes her skin glisten, and Catra wants a <em>taste</em> but-</p><p>But that is not why she is doing this. She lets her gaze wander back up to Adora’s face. Her eyes are half-lidded, soft gasps spilling forth from her parted lips with every one of Catra’s thrusts. She looks absolutely wrecked, and Catra knows she is close.</p><p>“Touch yourself, princess. I’m not doing all the work here,” Catra orders, and Adora’s eyes flutter closed like she knew they would. She bites her bottom lip, hand already moving to follow Catra’s command. She always did like being bossed around, but not as much as she liked it when-</p><p>Adora’s hand falls between her legs, fingers working at her clit desperately. “Good girl. Looks like you still know how to follow orders. If you want to be <em>good</em> for me, I’m going to need you to come,” Catra purrs. She barely gets the words out before Adora is crying out, walls clenching down on her fingers. Catra works her through it, drinking in the sight of Adora completely fucked out, riding her fingers as she rubs herself off. She knows she won’t be seeing this again, not for a while at least.</p><p>The thought leaves a bitter taste in her mouth and she pulls her fingers out. She steps away from Adora as the other woman collapses back against the wall, panting heavily. “Thanks for the fun, <em>babe</em>,” Catra tells her, dismissively, walking over to the sink and quite literally washing her hands of the affair. It is unnecessary, and dramatic, and a bit cruel, but Catra is still <em>angry</em>.</p><p><em>You know I can’t</em>. How dare she act like she needs Catra, still wants Catra after she abandoned her.</p><p>Catra finally fixes the fly of her jeans and turns away. As she stalks from the bathroom, Catra catches Adora’s eyes. She looks <em>ruined</em>. Catra hisses at her, unlocking the bathroom door and yanking it open. She is going to <em>find</em> that hard liquor, now.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you have never heard of the Foxcatcher wrestling team it is an incredibly interesting bit of dark sports history and inspired the title of this fic and some of the later plot/worldbuiliding. Summary: rich guy murders an athlete on the team he funds. Long version: there’s a documentary on Netflix simply called “Team Foxcatcher” that I highly recommend if you like true crime, niche history, or just bizarre stories about rich people going delusional.<br/>I would say if there’s interest I’ll write more for this AU but we all already know I’ve started to write the next chapter. I'm not really sure how much I'll write for this? I could make it be just 3 chapters or like 10 so I guess it depends on how I'm feeling about it once I hit chapter three and what people want from it.<br/>Final note: I wanna point out this is not incredibly healthy sex! Please don't use this as a basis for what a sexual interaction should be like. It is completely consensual, and I tried to make it clear they still care for each other despite everything, as well as knowing each other well enough to get away with this kind of thing without causing more problems, but hatesex with an ex is pretty much always a bad idea. This will end up being the catalyst that leads to them getting back together but know you deserve better. Catra and Adora don't think they deserve better, that's how they ended up here. I tried to portray much healthier sex in my other fics and though it will be a little bit of journey they'll get there in this fic too.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Party Pt. 2: The Hangover</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Adora really doesn't expect her night to get worse after hooking up with Catra in the bathroom, but she always did love a challenge.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CONTENT WARNING: Catra consumes A LOT of alcohol in this chapter and gets drunk – Glimmer is also drunk but way less so. I tried not to glorify alcohol-use because BOY is this not a healthy coping mechanism, but it is something that happens.<br/>Drink in moderation kids. Catra’s an alien, she can take it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Catra, where have you been?” Scorpia asks, too loud and with too much concern as if she didn’t <em>see</em> where Catra had gone – who she had been with. Catra growls as she stalks past her.</p><p>“<em>Where</em> is the absinthe?”</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Adora considers just staying in the bathroom for the rest of the party. She looks like a wreck, even after she washes up and fixes her clothes. Her hair is in disarray, falling around her shoulders with a clear wave where her snapped ponytail holder used to. Her neck might as well have been tattooed with Catra’s kiss. If anyone were to look at her running shorts close enough they would see the red is stained a darker shade between her legs. There is a bruise on her right wrist and her lips look so bitten she might as well be wearing a lipstain.</p><p>Adora groans, burying her head in her hands. Glimmer is going to <em>kill</em> her. Five months of pining for Catra, only ever ending in a fight when she caught up to her, and now <em>this</em>. Adora feels bad – not about what they did, but about how much time Glimmer has put into picking her up off her feet for her to just turn around and pull something like this. She can’t ever feel bad about Catra – about touching her, kissing her, loving her – but she wishes she wasn’t so <em>weak</em>.</p><p>She wishes she could go back five months and push down her panic attack long enough to call Catra, to get her out of there with her too. Nothing she has said since then has gotten through the hatred that bloomed in that moment.</p><p>Adora sends her reflection one last look of loathing and pushes open the bathroom door.</p><p>She doesn’t even know why she came to this party. She does not know anyone on the Prince Blue team. Glimmer had offered, and she said yes, just because she couldn’t face another night alone in her apartment, that used to be <em>their</em> apartment, trying to either take notes reviewing her practice footage or just sitting on her couch <em>yearning</em>.</p><p>Adora thought she was getting to a better place than this. Sure, she is burning out in a major way, and she has actually been banned from going to the sports complex on Sundays so her body can rest, but <em>mentally</em> at least, she thought therapy was helping.</p><p>It turns out knowing what her issues are and being able to fix them are two entirely different things.</p><p>Adora does not want to go back to the main room of the party – that is where Catra had found her. She does not need Catra catching her eye now, gaze flicking down to her neck, and sneering. Adora is pretty sure that is how it would go at this point. She knows Catra still cares about her – she can confidentially say she knows Catra will <em>always</em> care about her – but she hates her, too.</p><p>Adora wanders down the hall in the opposite direction from which they had come. She just needs to find Glimmer and Bow. She can only hope that maybe Glimmer has drunk enough by now she won’t notice the state of Adora’s <em>everything</em>. Bow will, he had been planning on staying sober tonight, but he will at least just look at her with pity. Glimmer will probably be mad at her – and she will be right to.</p><p>Adora sighs dejectedly as she makes her way to the kitchen. The entire house is packed with bodies – she recognizes players from at least three different teams here, not including her own – and there are a considerable number of regular college students, too, if their physiques are anything to go by. Lucky for Adora her best friend literally sparkles. Adora catches a pink shine out of the corner of her eye, turning to look out the kitchen window.</p><p>Glimmer is in the backyard, bent over a hedge, and Adora feels her heart clench in a moment of panic. She is running before she can think about it, bursting out the kitchen door and crossing the lawn in a few strides.</p><p>“Glimmer!” she calls as she approaches, already reaching out for the other woman. She didn’t think they were in the bathroom that long, but if Glimmer is to <em>throwing up in bushes</em> drunk, then clearly she miscalculated.</p><p>Or maybe not. Glimmer startles, whipping around. Her face is flushed, but her eyes aren’t unfocused, and she definitely doesn’t look sick. The worry in Adora’s chest quiets for a moment – until Glimmer actually sees her, registering Adora’s <em>state</em> beyond just her physical presence.</p><p>“Adora…” Glimmer sighs. She does not look mad. She looks <em>disappointed</em>.</p><p><em>Oh,</em> Adora realizes, <em>this is worse</em>. Adora looks away, heaving a sigh.</p><p>“I’m sorry, okay? She got me alone and I just- It’s <em>Catra</em>, Glimmer,” Adora manages, even though that explanation could only ever make sense to her. Only she knows everything the word <em>Catra</em> encompasses. How much that single word explains everything.</p><p>“Adora, you deserve better than this,” Glimmer tells her, sadly, putting a hand on her shoulder. Adora flinches and does not make eye contact with her. She really does not. Catra withdrawing her love was the worst thing she could have done to Adora, but Adora still deserved it for leaving her there. Adora would not have done what she did in that bathroom if she thought there was much of a chance for anything else between them. She would take what she can get, at this point.</p><p>“What were you doing in the bush?” Adora asks Glimmer, to distract her. Glimmer narrows her eyes at her, cheeks puffing a bit petulantly, but then her gaze slides down to Adora’s neck and she softens. She feels <em>sorry</em> for her.</p><p><em>Yeah, definitely worse than anger</em>.</p><p>“I found a cat,” Glimmer shrugs, finally, pulling away to lean back over the bush. Adora follows her gaze and finds there is, in fact, a cat under the bush. An orange tabby, tucked underneath the branches and seemingly perfectly content despite the thudding trap music of the party spilling out onto the lawn. “Wanna help me coax it out to show Bow?”</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>“Catra, you really should slow down. I mean, we’re supposed to run drills tomorrow-“</p><p>“Correction, <em>you’re</em> supposed to run drills tomorrow. I’m going to be under the bed until Sunday.”</p><p>“That seems like an ill-advised place to sleep. Have you considered the couch if on the bed is not an option?”</p><p>“Pour me another shot and I will, Entrapta.”</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>“How did you do that?” Glimmer asks, incredulously, as she stares down at the cat cradled in Adora’s arms. Adora shrugs.</p><p>“They love that sound. Always lures them out from the darkest corners,” she says, scratching under the tabby’s chin. The tabby begins to purr and Adora’s chest pangs painfully. “Are we going to go find Bow now?”</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>“Scorpia! Help me out here. The bottle is too high for me to reach.”</p><p>“Catra, you could climb that sober on a <em>bad</em> day. I think you have had enough.”</p><p>“And I can climb it drunk, too,” Catra challenges. She begins to climb.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>They do not find Bow – he finds them before they ever go back inside. They looped around the outside of the house, not wanting to bring the cat inside without knowing if it lived there. When they did not find him on the front porch, they looped back around and almost walked into him coming out of the kitchen.</p><p>The cat saves Adora from a judgmental look, at least temporarily. “Kitty!” Bow coos, reaching out to scratch the sides of the cat’s face. The cat rumbles a satisfied purr despite the absolutely raucous party happening around them.</p><p>“He must live here. There is no way he would be so relaxed, otherwise,” Glimmer argues.</p><p>“You don’t even know they are a he. Besides, they clearly like it outside,” Adora argues, pulling the cat back from where she had held it out for Bow. She tucks it up under her chin and realizes her mistake as Bow’s gaze follows the cat and lands on her neck.</p><p>Bow, however, doesn’t know Catra is here yet, so his eyes go the size of dinnerplates as he gapes at Adora. “What happened to you?” he asks, rushing forward to clutch at her shoulders. The tabby hisses at being crowded in suddenly, claws digging into Adora’s arm as it leaps away. Now that is familiar.</p><p>“I… may have… been with Catra… in the bathroom, earlier,” Adora coughs out, fixing her gaze on an absolutely fascinating shingle on the roof. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees her teammates exchange looks. Shame burns on her face. From the ground below, the tabby trills.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>“Where is Scorpia?”</p><p>“She went to get you water.”</p><p>“I told her I don’t <em>want</em> water. It sobers you up.”</p><p>“I believe that was her intention, yes. Don't worry! She got intercepted by the shot-caller for team Plumeria. Last I saw they seemed to be having a very engaging conversation!”</p><p>Great. Now even Scorpia was done with her shit. Of course. She needs more alcohol.</p><p>“I need more alcohol,” Catra says.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>After they show Bow the cat, and Bow tries to have a whispered conversation with Adora about respecting herself – yeah, right – they end up hanging out on the back porch of the party for over an hour. Adora does not really track time by anything other than her friends’ drinks. Bow is still slowly nursing his single beer, but Glimmer makes it well into her third rum and coke before she starts to wilt.</p><p>Adora exchanges a meaningful look with Bow and is relieved when he nods. Glimmer and Bow have been doing a good job of keeping her distracted, and she really treasures time she gets to spend with her friends, but every time she sees a flash of dark hair or skin out of the corner of her eye she finds herself turning to look, breath catching hopefully before she realizes it was just another stranger.</p><p>Glimmer reaches up into the air indistinctly from where she is slumped back against the porch railing. Adora takes one of Glimmer’s arms, Bow the other, and they lift her to her feet. “Hmmm, thank you. I love you guys. Even if you are too tall,” Glimmer smiles up at them. She is - not sober.</p><p>“Love you too. Come on, let’s get you to the car,” Bow assures her, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her as they walk around the side of the house. Bow digs in his pocket with his free hands, pulling out Adora’s keys and handing them to her – she didn’t have any pockets in these shorts, but they were comfortable, and she had not felt like changing for a party where she thought she would not know anyone.</p><p>“You want me to pull the car around or you good to walk, Glim?” Adora asks, squinting down at the younger girl as they reach the driveway. Glimmer shakes her head.</p><p>“It is so <em>nice</em> out tonight. Let’s walk,” she decides. Adora cannot help but smile down at her friend. Glimmer is nice most of the time, but when she drinks she gets <em>mushy</em>.</p><p>“Alright, it is only a block anyway,” Adora assures her, looking up to glance down the street. She sucks a breath in suddenly, feeling a kick to her ribs.</p><p>Oh. Catra.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Catra is vaguely aware of the hard curb beneath her ass. She is too busy glaring at her phone, as if her gaze alone will charge it. She had <em>assumed</em> she would be fine. Scorpia drove them here, and even if she couldn’t drive her back, a rideshare was always on option. Or so she thought.</p><p>She is way too drunk for this. She lets her head collapse on her knees, slumping down on the sidewalk. She could go back inside and find Entrapta – she was chronically bad about draining her own phone’s battery, but she might at least be sober enough to ask a stranger to call a ride for Catra.</p><p>Catra’s head is spinning. She has enough survival instincts still kicking around to know if she tries to stand she is going to pass out. Slumped on the sidewalk might be bad but cracking her head on the asphalt would be worse. At least she does not feel sick – well, any sicker than she has since the moment she walked out on Adora in that little bathroom, looking absolutely ruined by her. She has not seen Adora since then and she has been all over the party, hanging off of Scorpia or Entrapta and downing drink after drink. Adora probably went back home after their hookup.</p><p><em>You ruined her night. Just like you ruined her. That is why she left you</em>, Coach Weaver’s voice sneers in the back of her head. Catra tries to summon up happiness at the thought of the sight of her wrecking Adora – it was what she had <em>thought</em> her intention had been when she brought her to that bathroom.</p><p>Maybe she is drunk enough to admit to herself she had just missed her. Just wanted to know Adora still wants her even if she does not love her. Never did.</p><p>Catra cries against her knees. She <em>knows</em> it, but she could at least have the solace in her own mind of pretending it was not true. Pretending that Adora loved her, that she had enjoyed herself, tonight and all the others. Distantly, Catra wonders what Adora’s times will be like once the season starts – if they will be better with whatever new partner she has picked up than they were with her. Years of training together to be perfectly in sync, and she is still so worthless Adora leaves her for people she met days ago.</p><p>There are plenty of better places to be having a pity party than on a dirty sidewalk, but she is here, and she is crying, and her mind is a chorus of <em>failure, failure, failure</em>, so she resigns herself to her fate.</p><p>People are standing over her, she realizes. Shit.</p><p>“Catra?” <em>she</em> calls, and Catra’s body sings. Relief washes over her as Adora’s scent hits her nose.</p><p>Catra is not crying anymore. She is purring.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>For half a second, Adora thought she had been hit by a <em>car</em>. Catra was on the curb, slumped over her knees, shoulders shaking. Adora had sprinted forward, dropping down beside her and calling out for her. That was when she saw the tears on her face.</p><p>As quick as she saw them, Catra stops crying. She does not open her eyes, face still pressed to her knees, but a purr starts rumbling out of her chest. Adora could sob, reaching out her arms to wrap them around her partner, gently sweeping her hands over her as she does so to check for injuries.</p><p>“Catra? Are you okay?” she whispers, vaguely aware of Bow and Glimmer finally catching up behind her. Catra pitches sideways, practically snuggling into her arms.</p><p>“Drunk,” she purrs in explanation, voice so sweetly soft it sounds like honey. The tears on her face are still glistening. Adora feels herself freeze as Catra nuzzles into her neck, breathing deeply as her purr intensifies.</p><p><em>Oh no</em>.</p><p>“Catra,” she says, trying to keep her voice even despite the fact her hands are shaking where they rest on Catra’s shoulders, “where are your friends?” she asks, changing her mind about her question at the last second. That question will not help, not now.</p><p>She <em>knows</em> Catra came here with her Horde teammates – her new partner and the girl they poached from team Dryl to fill the gap Adora left. She saw them for a half-second before Catra had dragged her to the bathroom to-</p><p><em>Don’t think about that</em>, she stops herself. <em>It isn’t going to help her right now</em>.</p><p>“Dunno. Scorpia went home with some hippie. She had the keys,” Catra mumbles against Adora’s neck. For no discernable reason, she follows this statement by licking a stripe up Adora’s neck. Adora’s hands spasm against her friend, but she manages not to do anything drastic.</p><p>Of <em>course</em> a Horde player would abandon the person they were supposed to be driving at a party, absolutely <em>wasted</em>. Of course something like this would happen to Catra without Adora there to watch her back.</p><p>Adora hates herself.</p><p>She can’t go back in time. She can’t choose to stay – and she still does not think she would. But she can do her best to make it up to Catra now. Catra has to be absolutely wasted to be snuggling into her like this, <em>purring</em> for her like this, especially in front of other people. Two hours ago, Catra hated her guts – Adora is not sure what to do with this whiplash.</p><p>“Okay, come on, Catra. Let’s get you up and get you home,” Adora tells her, readjusting her grip on the smaller woman so she can lift her up properly.</p><p>“Can’t walk,” Catra mumbles. She is still purring. She has not moved her nose from Adora’s pulse point. Adora does not know what to do with that.</p><p>“I’ve got you,” she assures her instead of trying to untangle the knotted mess in her chest. She rearranges Catra’s limbs a little bit and lifts her up, tucking her up against her chest in a princess carry. Catra curls into a ball in her arms and seems to purr even louder, if possible.</p><p>Adora glances back at Bow and Glimmer. She knows how pained her expression must be. Bow just flicks a concerned gaze between the two of them before nodding. Glimmer looks a bit spaced out, still. When she notices how Catra is curled in Adora’s arms, she coos. Adora grimaces, tightening her grip. Any other time a sound like that might as well be a challenge to a duel to the death. Right now, Catra does not seem to even notice.</p><p>“Let’s just get to the car,” Adora says.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Adora is <em>here</em>. She is here and she is all around her and she came back for her and she smells so <em>nice</em>. Catra could not move away from her neck if she wanted to. Her limbs feel like they are filled with the liquid burn of alcohol, not sturdy enough to support her weight, or even clutch at her ex-lover like she desperately wants to. Catra has to settle for burying her nose against her pulse, occasionally pressing a kiss there when her mouth chooses to respond to her commands, or Adora is not insisting on talking to her.</p><p>“How much did you have to drink?” she asks, arms jostling around her. Catra does not know where they are going. Adora had said <em>home</em> and that had sounded wonderful.</p><p>“Two,” she mumbles, ending the word with a quick lick against Adora’s neck. Her skin is so <em>soft</em> there. Catra can tell she did not shower after practice today – there is a delicious tingle of salt on her tongue that makes her want to fasten on and suck until her lips stop working. Unfortunately, they are not working already. She hums against the soft spot instead.</p><p>“Two drinks?” Adora asks, incredulous. Catra manages to scowl into her neck.</p><p>“<em>Bottles</em>. I’m not a lightweight,” Catra complains, vaguely aware of her words slurring.</p><p>They stop moving. There is discussion happening around her, but it is not Adora’s voice, so she does not care. She nuzzles into her neck, purring happily now she has stopped talking so Catra can focus on just soaking her in. She wonders how long she will stay for, this time.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Adora manages to convince Bow they do not have to go to the hospital. “She is not human, Bow. It is different,” she assures him. It is true, but even Adora is worried. The truth is she knows how bad it would be for Catra’s mental state to wake up in a hospital – it would be even worse for her physical one once Coach Weaver found out how she ended up there. Unless she started to take a downturn, Adora was not willing to hurt her friend like that.</p><p>“I’ll watch her,” Adora promises Bow when he still does not look convinced.</p><p>Catra refuses to acknowledge anyone but her. It should not make her heart soften the way it does – especially not when Catra digs in her claws and refuses to let go when Adora tries to put her in the backseat.</p><p>“Catra, I have to drive,” she tries to reason with her. Catra has never been one for reason.</p><p>“Doesn’t smell like you anymore,” is Catra’s reply. Her eyes are open, now, shining bright in the low streetlights and wholly unfocused. It takes Adora a minute to work out what that means. She sighs.</p><p>“Bow, can you take the back with Glimmer?” she asks, gathering Catra in her arms to lift her off of the seat she was refusing to be placed on.</p><p>“You can’t drive with her in your <em>lap</em>,” Bow squeaks, scandalized, but he still walks around to the back.</p><p>“I can hardly drive with nothing in my lap, thanks Bow, I <em>know</em>,” Adora shoots back. She sighs as she makes her way to the passenger side door. Bow left it open for her, thankfully. “Catra, I’m going to put you down for just a second. I’ll be back right away, I promise,” she tries to cajole. Catra sniffs against her neck.</p><p>“You broke your last promise,” she whispers, voice small.</p><p>Adora could <em>cry</em>.</p><p>“I’ll repair it, Catra, I swear. I meant it then and I mean it now. Please, just let me take care of you,” she pleads. Catra’s claws prick against her skin – blood is probably welling in a few spots. It is not like she does not have marks on her from tonight anyway.</p><p>“Don’t want you to leave again,” Catra mumbles in explanation, claws flexing. Her lips graze Adora’s neck as she speaks. Adora’s knees shake. She knows it is not from the exertion of supporting Catra, half-leaned over the passenger seat as she tries to extricate herself from her partner.</p><p>In the bathroom, Catra had seemed like she could never trust her again – never want her in her life again. Adora had taken it as the moment of connection she was going to get with her, desperate after five months, alone in their bed. Now she cannot help but wonder what was really happening – and how much of what has been said tonight was just the alcohol talking.</p><p>“I won’t. I am going to take you home, okay? But I need to sit next to you to do that, and I can’t do that from this angle. Don’t you want to go home, Catra?” she tries again. She <em>hates</em> that she can feel Bow’s eyes on her for this entire conversation. She knows she has tears in her eyes at this point, but her voice manages to remain mercifully clear. She does not, actually, know if Catra wants to go home, but it is the only place she trusts for her to be right now.</p><p>That seems to finally get through to Catra. She does not let go, but Adora feels her claws retract. Adora lets out a sigh of relief and thanks whatever higher power is fucking with her today that it does not come out as a sob. She pulls back from Catra, watching her arms fall away as she slumps back into the seat.</p><p>Catra looks limp, eyes barely slit open to watch her. Adora reaches back down to sit her up in the seat a bit more properly and buckle her in. She straightens, taking a step back to close the car door, and watches Catra’s eyes widen in fear, ears flattening to her head. Shit. She takes a step forward again, biting her lip as Catra immediately seems to calm from her return. Her throat clenches painfully.</p><p><em>Doesn’t smell like you</em>, she had said. Adora reaches behind her head, gripping her hoodie from the base of her neck and pulling it off over her head.</p><p>“Ooo!” Glimmer hums happily from the backseat. Bow elbows her and Adora glares at them both as she leans down, pulling the hoodie on over Catra’s shoulders. She has to bite down on her lip to stop from making a sound when Catra’s ear pop back up after the fabric passes over them, twitching slightly as she stares up at her with wide eyes, a purr beginning to rumble through the car again.</p><p>“I’m going to walk around to the driver’s side now, okay? I will be right back. Now it will smell like me while I am gone,” Adora assures her, sending her what she hopes is an encouraging smile before she tries to take a step back again. Catra watches her go, expression unchanging from the wide-eyed stare and slowly twitching ears. Adora closes the passenger door, hurrying around to the other side as quickly as she can.</p><p>Finally, she gets in the driver’s seat, buckling her seatbelt and glancing into the rearview mirror to make eye contact with Bow. He still looks worried, but mostly just tired. She glances over at Catra. She has balled up a bit in the passenger seat, nose tucked down within the collar of the hoodie. She is watching Adora, still, like she expects her to vanish any second now.</p><p>“I’m going to drop Bow and Glimmer off, and then we’re going to go home, okay?” Adora promises her. Catra twitches a single ear in her direction. She takes it as confirmation and starts the car.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>The car ride is <em>weird</em>. Adora’s scent is everywhere, but the replacements’ scents are too. Adora promised she would sit next to her, but she is so <em>far</em>. Catra knows that is how center consoles work, but she hates it. She wonders if Adora wanted to be as far from her as she could. She had tried to put her in the back at first, hadn’t she? With her sparkly replacement who smells like a fancy soap store and hatred?</p><p>Catra keeps her face buried in the hoodie, letting the scent soothe her as she watches Adora’s hands on the wheel, moving to the stick shift, raising up to brush some hair out of her face. Every time the car stops Adora glances at her, sometimes just for a moment and sometimes holding her gaze and sending her a warm smile.</p><p>It is almost like nothing happened. Like they are still together, and Adora did not leave her, and the entire world didn’t end five months ago. It is almost like Adora wants her to be there. Catra whines softly into the hoodie and hungrily drinks in the way Adora’s eyes snap to her for a moment before she returns them to the road.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Adora is grateful when Bow pulls Glimmer out of the car with him. Sure, bringing his slightly-drunk girlfriend to his dads’ house might not be the best idea, but it cuts thirty minutes out of her drive. Catra has been clearly fading in and out, eyes slipping closed occasionally. Adora keeps reaching out to shake her awake as she drives them to the apartment.</p><p>She does not consider asking Catra where she lives, now, or if she wants Adora to take her to her new place. She is not going to leave Catra alone, not like this, and she thinks Catra would rather wake up at their old place and storm out than have to kick Adora off her couch.</p><p>Getting Catra out of the car, through the parking garage, and up to her flat is a monumental task, if only because Catra seems determined to curl into a ball on her shoulder, regardless of things like physics and gravity.</p><p>“Come on, Catra. We’re almost there,” she assures her as she finally gets her front door unlocked. Catra trills happily, pulling away from Adora for the first time to stumble inside. Adora tries to ignore the way the sound makes her heart clench – it was always a rare one, but she had not known going months without it was so painful until she heard it again.</p><p>Catra makes it only a few steps on two feet before she drops to a crouch. Adora panics, for half a second, thinking maybe she passed out, but then Catra just <em>takes off</em>, running on all fours through the living room and into her open bedroom door. Adora lets out a sigh of relief, turning around to lock the deadbolt.</p><p>She takes her time following, taking her shoes off, hesitating for a minute before stripping down to her underwear. It was not like to wasn’t anything Catra hadn’t seen before – hadn’t been <em>touching</em> a few hours ago. Remembering that made her stomach feel like it was full of acid, though, so she pushes it down and makes her way to the small kitchen. She grabs a glass of water, some pain relievers, and one of the fruity granola bars Catra likes. Taking a deep breath, she steals herself and makes her way to the bedroom.</p><p>She does not know quite what she was expecting. She definitely wasn’t expecting all the air to leave her lungs at the sight of Catra, jeans caught around her ankles where she had apparently given up on removing them, curled up in her bed and snuggling down into the comforter like it is the softest, safest place in the world. A gentle purr rumbles through the room. Her partner has a small, content smile on her face, eyes peacefully shut as she drifts off.</p><p>Adora struggles to breathe at the sight for several long moments until her knees start to feel weak and she is forced to move forward or collapse there. She stumbles to the bed, placing the glass and pills on the nightstand. She fumbles the granola bar from where it is tucked under her arm and has to spend a moment searching under the bed for it. When she pops back up, she finds Catra has opened her eyes again, watching her with a lazy smile and half-lidded gaze. Her purr rumbles in the space between them as her eyes sweep down Adora’s body. Adora suddenly remembers the fact that she is naked but for her underwear, and Catra is in the same boat but for a bralette and seriously cropped hoodie.</p><p>“Alright,” she manages shakily, reaching for Catra and pulling her shoulders until she sits up, “let’s get you some water and then you can go to sleep, okay, kitten?” Adora asks, running a hand soothingly down Catra’s back.</p><p>If Adora called Catra kitten a few hours ago she is certain she would have come away with claw marks. Wasted Catra, however, just trills happily and lets herself be held up as Adora guides a glass of water to her lips. She manages to get Catra to drink about half of it before she starts turning away. She abandons the water in favour of the pills, coaxing her to drink just a little more to swallow them down. She does not bother with the granola bar – that is for when Catra wakes up pissed at her in the morning.</p><p>Adora rises from the bed, sighing, as Catra snuggles back into the comforter. She manages to work the twisted fabric of Catra’s jeans off from around her ankles, pulling the sheets over her to give her some privacy.</p><p>She pulls on a loose tank top and replaces her long-ruined underwear with some sleep shorts. She doesn’t have it in her to dress Catra, right now, but if she woke up in the morning to find them <em>both</em> naked, she knows the freak-out would be far worse than it already is going to be – and deservedly so.</p><p>Adora ignores the shake in her hands as she gathers a spare pillow out from under the bed and lays out on the couch. It had to have been an hour, maybe two, from when they were in that bathroom together and she next saw Catra. She cannot stop her mind from wandering to what happened – and what <em>didn’t</em> happen – in that time.</p><p>She falls asleep clenching her fist to keep it from shaking.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*whispers* Yes that was a folklore reference near the beginning. LISTEN that album has so many good catradora songs.<br/>I’m going to say Magicat alcohol resistance is a bit crazy. Don’t do what Catra did for the love of god you will die. I kind of just decided that drunk magicat = cat high on catnip and honestly? Inspired of me.<br/>I did Scorpia kind of dirty in this, but in her defense Scorpia also thought Catra could just call a ride share, they hadn’t actually designated her as their driver since none of them had talked about drinking (given the drills the next morning), and she thought she was leaving Catra with a sober Entrapta. Unfortunately, Catra did not stay put.<br/>This is the weirdest fic because it STARTS with mindless smut and then actually gets to something approaching a plot. I'm sorry I don't know why I'm like this lmao.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Morning After</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Catra wakes up surrounded by warmth, and safety, and her. Everything is alright for the first time in months – at least for the few minutes before she remembers why this is the first time in months she has woken up this way.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Oh did you think this was a smut fic no this is a fic about Catra’s head Being Like That.<br/></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Catra wakes up surrounded by warmth, and safety, and <em>her</em>. Everything is alright for the first time in months – at least for the few minutes before she remembers why this is the first time in months she has woken up this way. Catra jolts up, already hissing, claws extending, and is greeted with an empty room. <em>Their</em> room, once upon a time.</p><p>The sudden movement makes stars burst behind her eyes and she clutches her forehead, hissing in pain, now.  Her throat feels dry, but not as wrecked as she would expect for the amount of alcohol she remembers downing last night. Blearily, she peers at the nightstand for the time.</p><p>Almost 11 a.m., but a glass of water also greets her. Catra vaguely remembers Adora making her drink water before she passed out. She swallows the bitter feeling in her throat and downs the rest of the glass.</p><p>She takes stock of her state. Her jeans are thrown over the foot of the bed – she snatches them up and wrestles them on. She is still wearing Adora’s hoodie – it reminds her of the look on Adora’s face in the bathroom, and she wrestles it off, hissing. Her mane is an absolute mess, she can feel it, but the best she can do for that is run her fingers through it a few times and hope. She collected all her hair shit from Adora’s bathroom when she kicked herself out of their apartment.</p><p><em>After she left you</em>, the bitter voice in the back of Catra’s mind reminds her. Her heart is not in it, not right now. She is exhausted, and aching, and it is hard to be mad at Adora when she is so surrounded by her and feeling the way it instantly calms her nerves.</p><p>Adora also – is not here, Catra realizes, a bit belatedly. She pulls her phone out of her jeans pocket, hissing in frustration as she remembers it is dead, and takes another glance around the room.</p><p>Either Adora moved where she charges her phone, or she did not charge it last night. The nightstand is empty of any phones, though it does hold a raspberry granola bar. Catra snatches it up, instantly ravenous, digging into the bar as she finally stands.</p><p>The room does not spin. As far as hangovers go, she has seen worse, even if she has never had them herself. Mostly she just feels exhausted. She thanks her magicat resistance as she approaches the bedroom door, staring at it as if it is a bomb she can learn to diffuse. She can smell Adora, more so than just the lingering scent in her space. She knows she is in the apartment, either out in the living room or kitchen. Catra is going to have to face her and her own shitty decisions sooner or later.</p><p>Distantly, another memory from last night pops up, licking along Adora’s neck while she purred. Her ex-partner had just been trying to keep her alive, asking questions about what she had been drinking, and Catra threw herself at her with all the same desperation she had in the bathroom two hours earlier, but without even the thin guise of anger.</p><p>Catra decides to idle a little longer. She turns to Adora’s closet and desperately hopes she missed some of her clothes when she collected her shit.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Adora is staring blearily at her phone screen, scrolling through the Scorpia girl’s profile to see what kind of person abandons their wasted friend at a party, occasionally texting Bow and Glimmer that Catra is not up yet, when the sound of the bedroom door startles her enough she drops her phone on her face. Catra cackles at her idiocy as Adora scrambles to sit up, phone sliding down her chest and bouncing off the couch to land on her floor. She ignores it, eyeing Catra carefully.</p><p>Catra looks – hungover, definitely, but shockingly good given the circumstances. She looks annoyed, but she is not raging like she had been last night – even though Adora is fairly certain it is even more deserved, now. Her hair is an absolute mess and Adora has to clench her hands in fists to resist the urge to cross the room and run her hands through it. She has thrown one of Adora’s flannels, an oversized green plaid, over her shoulders and only bothered to button it halfway. Adora really likes that shirt – she mentally kisses it goodbye.</p><p>Catra is pointedly not looking at her. Her ears are down by the sides of her head, tail swaying nervously behind her back. She almost looks ashamed. Adora was expecting a lot of things this morning, but not this.</p><p>It makes the question that had been boiling in her chest all night burst forth. “When did you start drinking last night?” she asks with the tact of a rhino. Catra scowls at her, shoulders raising defensively.</p><p>“I don’t need a fucking lecture, Adora-“</p><p>“<em>When</em>, Catra?” Adora asks, hating how her voice shakes and breaks. She sees Catra startle from where she stands and Adora hangs her head, screwing her eyes up as tight as her fists.</p><p>She is a fucking idiot. How she did not taste it, she does not know. Desperation and hope covering up what little faculties she still had about her. “I’m <em>sorry</em>, Catra. I didn’t realize- I thought you wanted-“ her voice breaks again and she slumps against the back of the couch. She can’t even apologize to her.</p><p>Why is she ever surprised when she catches up with Catra and the other girl hates her?</p><p>“You idiot,” Catra hisses, and Adora winces, turning her face away. She tenses her shoulders, waits for the rest. Waits for Catra to start yelling or to storm out. She sees Catra’s feet enter her periphery, her ex-partner coming to stand before her. “After, Adora,” Catra says above her, voice quiet, almost soft. Adora startles, looking up at her. She realizes there are tears in her eyes. Belatedly, she wipes them away.</p><p>“I’m sorry- I shouldn’t- This isn’t <em>about</em> me,” she tries to apologize. Catra reaches down and grips her wrist. Adora stills, staring at the point of contact.</p><p>Catra had grabbed her like this last night, in the bathroom, just before she pinned her to the wall. Then, her touch had been angry and bruising. Now, Catra touches her like she is afraid she will throw her off.</p><p>“I started drinking after, Adora. Stop worrying. I knew what I was doing with you. I wanted to,” Catra tells her, softly. Adora feels a shuddering breath knock out from her lungs, relief flooding her and making her lightheaded. With shaking hands, she does something monumentally stupid.</p><p>She reaches for Catra. She watches Catra track her hands the whole way, until she has one hand on her shoulder and the other on her waist, and then she pulls her in. To her shock, Catra follows, settling in her lap.</p><p>It is the closest they have been to each other without the charge of a fight or sexual frustration hanging in the air between them in almost six months. Adora was not sure if such an embrace was even possible between them anymore. It makes Adora hyperventilate a little, grip spasming on Catra’s body. Catra looks worried, deservedly, but she does not pull back even as her tail flicks nervously. Slowly, she reaches up and places her hands over Adora’s.</p><p>Adora realizes she has yet to reciprocate, and her therapist says reciprocation is important.</p><p>“I wanted to, too. I know you are pissed at me, but I missed being with you. However you were willing to have me,” Adora tells her. Catra hisses, looking away as her ears go down, but she does not pull away. Adora does not know what that means.</p><p>Catra’s face is screwing up in anger. Adora knows she should leave well enough alone but – she also knows this is the last time Catra will probably let her touch her like this for a long time. She slides her hands around her back, pulling the smaller woman into a crushing hug against her chest. Catra hisses again, stiffening. Adora cuts her off before she can pull away.</p><p>“I was so <em>scared</em> last night, Catra. I woke up four times just to check on you. When I saw you on the curb, I thought- I thought you had been hit by a car or something,” she confesses, clutching her ex-partner close. She waits for the claws to come out, for Catra to struggle out of the hold. She will take every second of this she can get until then.</p><p>“Is that all it takes? For you to think I died before you miss me?” Catra asks against her shoulder, bitterly. Adora feels her breath catch. She has to know she misses her, doesn’t she?</p><p>“I’ve missed you from the moment you walked out, Catra,” Adora tells her. She feels Catra still dangerously against her. It was a bad wording choice, she knows immediately. Makes it seem like the whole thing is Catra’s fault. Catra pulls away, looking down at Adora with an unreadable expression. Her hands hang uselessly against Catra’s back, completely limp now she has pulled away. Catra sighs above her, shifts, and Adora screws shut her eyes and waits for Catra’s heat to leave her.</p><p>Catra stands, turning away, and Adora is half successful in choking down the sob that elicits. Catra’s ear flicks back, barely acknowledging it as she looks away.</p><p>“I’m going to use your shower. I feel like shit,” she says, and just like that, the conversation is over. Adora just nods numbly, watching her leave the room. She waits until the bathroom door has closed and she can hear the spray turning on to start crying.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Catra is shockingly successful in not crying. She had turned on the spray to cover her tears, but none come. She realizes she is probably too dehydrated for the tears to form.</p><p>She does not remember until she is already in the shower that all of her haircare shit is in Scorpia’s place, now, and this was a terrible idea – she was so used to coming in here to wash away a shitty day that she just fell back on it as safety mechanism to get away from the absolute last conversation she wants to have right now.</p><p><em>I’ve missed you from the moment you walked out</em>. The last thing Catra ever wants to think about. But here Adora is, sleeping on the couch, <em>crying</em> on the couch, because she was <em>worried</em> about her. Worried about her over something she did to herself. Catra feels her fists clench in the spray.</p><p>Catra wants to storm out of the shower and ask what changed – she does not. She wants to know why twenty years together were not enough against two days with two strangers – but she knows the answer. Because those twenty years were with <em>her</em>, and she is never enough. Not for Coach Weaver, not for Manager Hordak, and certainly not for Adora, who she actually <em>wants</em>.</p><p>The thoughts come, laced with vitriol, but Catra’s body is just too tired from the night before to get her blood boiling. She tries to wash Adora’s scent off her and fails. It is pointless, anyway. She is going to touch her again before she leaves – is probably even going to walk out of here in her clothes. She does not want to put her dirty clothes on from the night before – she is <em>keeping</em> the flannel though.</p><p>She cannot stop remembering the feeling of Adora shaking against her. It does not mean she loves her – she would have stayed if she loved her. But Adora has always been a deeply good person, far too good for that place. She would not want to leave anyone in the position she had found Catra in last night. It does not mean anything – it can’t.</p><p>She cannot get the desperate, heartbroken look on Adora’s face when she left her in that bathroom out of her mind.</p><p>Catra shuts the water off. She spends several minutes trying to dry her fur without her hairdryer and gives up, stalking out of the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around her, fur dripping and tangled from the water.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Catra comes out of the bathroom looking far more like Adora had been expecting her to when she first saw her this morning – that is to say, angry and a bit of wreck. Adora sees she is wearing nothing, towel barely covering her, and promptly turns red and spins around.</p><p>“Nothing you haven’t tasted before, princess,” Catra leers behind her as she crosses into the bedroom. Adora does not hear the door close, so she does not turn around.</p><p>“You <em>asked</em> me to. You didn’t tell me to look at you just now,” Adora says, gaze fixed determinedly on the ceiling. She should have known better – neither one of them are one to back down from a challenge.</p><p>“Look at me,” Catra orders behind her. Adora feels her shoulders slump, but she turns around without hesitation. Catra is standing in the middle of her bedroom, towel slung over her shoulder, arms crossed, completely naked and dripping on her floor. Adora frowns as her gaze sweeps down her body and she notices a trail of bruises around Catra’s calf.</p><p>“What happened?” she asks, nakedness forgotten as she crosses the living room to follow Catra inside. It is not the reaction Catra is expecting. She uncrosses her arms, ears twitching in confusion. She watches Adora approach until she stands before her, sinking to her knees to inspect the mark. Catra hisses when she realizes what she is looking at, but she does not pull away.</p><p>“What do you think happened? Training accidents happen. You always knew that, Adora,” Catra says, voice bitter as she balls her fists by her side. Adora presses her mouth shut in a thin line to keep from yelling. It is what Catra wants – for her to rise to the challenge and say that she should leave too, or that it isn’t right, any and all of the things she said in the bathroom and has been saying for five months.</p><p>Five months where it has not been working, and she has woken up every day missing Catra.</p><p>Besides, all those things may be true, but there are other things she can say truthfully, too. “I’m sorry. I should have been there for you,” Adora tells her, softly, reaching a hand out to wrap it around her leg just below the marks. They both know it is about more than the marks. Catra shakes – she does not know if it is from the words or the touch. Slowly, giving her time to pull away, Adora leans forward and presses a featherlight kiss to the mark. The shaking intensifies.</p><p>“I don’t need your martyr bullshit, Adora. You never protected me. And you never <em>could</em> have, running off when I still had seven months left,” Catra tells her. Her voice is shaking with barely-contained rage. Adora sighs, knows the breath puffs against Catra’s fur.</p><p>“You’re right,” she says, dejected. The shaking subsides. She does not dare look up. Partially because she does not want to see Catra’s face, and partially because it has just occurred to her that, once again, Catra is naked.</p><p>Catra scoffs, taking a step back. “Whatever. Just get out, Adora. I need to get dressed,” she tells her, turning away. Adora follows orders, like she always has.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Catra spends twenty minutes kicking around Adora’s bedroom, unwilling to get dressed with her fur still so wet. She rolls in Adora’s sheets, entirely to be an asshole and get them wet, and not at all to make them smell like her. She revels in the fact that the only scent in them is Adora, none of the replacements’ scents making it this far into the apartment –<em> their</em> apartment.</p><p>She finds a tight, black, sleeveless minidress in the back of the closet, from years ago when she had a phase that she then made Adora go through with her. It is ancient, hence why it fits Catra despite having once belonged to Adora, but she pulls it on because she knows Adora’s mind will break at the sight of it. No part of her does it taking into consideration the fact this is a piece of clothing Adora will not want back – that it is safe to take. That would be showing too much consideration for Adora, who certainly had not thought about <em>her</em> before she made decisions. Besides, who could argue that is her motivation when she takes the flannel too, throwing it over her shoulders so she looks a little less like she is doing a walk of shame.</p><p>She is, but the world does not need to know that.</p><p>She plugged her phone in while she waited for her hair to dry. She has a dozen missed messages. She reads none of them. She is going to see Scorpia face-to-face soon anyway – she doesn’t want to confront her over the phone, too. By the time she is dressed she has a rideshare coming to take her back to Scorpia’s place. Five months there, and she still will not think of it as <em>theirs</em>.</p><p>She idles in the bedroom, checking her ride’s ETA and staring determinedly at her feet as she tries not to think back to that conversation in the living room.</p><p><em>However you were willing to have me</em>. She said it like <em>Catra</em> was the one who left her-</p><p>Because she had been, Catra realizes five months too late.</p><p>She had been sick with worry for Adora, gone for more than a day now, phone not responding, <em>missing practice</em>, and then she read the news of the trade and thought that was it. Adora had thrown her out like a piece of trash and did not even bother to tell her.</p><p><em>Because she did</em>, Coach Weaver’s voice hisses. Catra’s heart is not in it. The thorns of self-hatred in the back of Catra’s mind do not match with the gentle care Adora had shown her as she brought her back to <em>their</em> apartment. Adora <em>misses</em> her. And yet, Adora left without her – there is no denying it.</p><p>After reading about the trade on the news, Catra had gone straight home to their place and waited. Waited for three hours – Adora never showed up. It was the final straw to know she had been right. She went to their bedroom and started packing a bag, hands shaking as all her worst fears were confirmed. Everything that Coach Weaver had ever said about her: that she dragged Adora down, that Adora would move on from her when she found someone better – on the court or off it. She had been gone before Adora returned from wherever she had disappeared to. She had crashed overnight in the team infirmary for two nights before Coach Weaver had informed her she was being assigned a new partner, and she would be moving in with Scorpia effective immediately to facilitate <em>team building</em>.</p><p>When Catra had finally made her way back to their old place to pick up her stuff, the fight she and Adora had was ballad-worthy. Catra hardly remembers half the things she said during it, anger and betrayal coursing through her and leaving her shaking. She had screamed at Adora about how she had left her for over an hour.</p><p>Adora has been trying to tell her side of the story for five months.</p><p>Sighing, Catra looks down at her phone screen and cancels the trip. She does not list a reason.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>FINALLY it’s the scenes that made me want to write this fic in the first place – the dealing with your shitty decisions from the night before running parallel with your shitty decisions from months ago making you realize that maybe, just maybe, communication could be a good thing? These morning after scenes were the first scenes from this fic that I thought of.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Five Months Ago</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Adora resolves that after today, Catra will at least know where she stood five months ago, even if the damage is done today.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CONTENT WARNING: This chapter deals with implied/referenced abuse, but no abuse is actually described, just dealing with the memories of it.<br/>I don’t think I’ve explicitly said it, so the shot-caller is one half of the lead duo who essentially makes the plays and coordinates the other duos on the court. They’re the most important player on the team, but they might not be the best player, just the best coordinator, etc, to keep all the duos working together. Adora just so happens to be the total package. So is Catra, when she is the shot-caller, but she does not quite have the leadership qualities that make Adora so great, even if she is an amazing player on her own.<br/>"Adora's" dress is a fast-fashion knock-off of <a href="https://n7punk.tumblr.com/post/625073106917212160/chapter-four-of-catcher-is-going-up-today-for">this designer piece</a> which looks the same but with less lace. Now imagine trying to ask for your ex back while they are wearing THAT.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the last twenty-four hours, Adora has taken every boundary she has come across and rammed through it with all the subtly of a dump truck. Hookup with her ex who she still wants to get back together with? Sure, why not. Bring Catra home, to their apartment full of every memory from the last two years? Well, to be honest she did not have an alternative at that point. Practically beg Catra for recognition, hug her without permission? Anyone who has tried before her has gotten permanent claw marks, but she is on a roll anyway. Get in Catra’s space and start talking about the worst things in both their pasts – <em>and Catra’s present</em>, she reminds herself – while she is naked of all things? Actually, Adora is pretty sure if Catra had been dressed for that conversation she would have stormed out then and there.</p><p>Adora sits on the couch and watches the bedroom door. Five minutes stretch, then ten, and then fifteen, and Adora realizes she does not have any willpower left. She has made some extremely chaotic decisions in the last day, but – Catra is here, isn’t she? Hiding in the bedroom, sure, but she is in the apartment again. Adora cannot help but feel that despite everything they have made <em>progress</em> today.</p><p>She goes digging in the linen closet. She is either going to fix this, or finally tear them apart. The finality of that would have terrified her yesterday. Now, the possibility of getting Catra back outweighs the fear of losing her – she already has lost her once, anyway. She finds the firesafe, tucked away inside a comforter to hide it from prying eyes, and enters in the date of their first kiss; a secret known only to her and Catra.</p><p>Adora pulls out the paperwork with shaking hands and resolves that after today, Catra will at least know where she stood six months ago, even if the damage is done today.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Catra almost calls up a ride again. She debates it for another ten minutes. Eventually, she forces herself to leave her phone on Adora’s charger just to keep her hands from twitching for it. She steels herself before the bedroom door, easing it open as quietly as she can to give herself time to survey the situation.</p><p>She does not know what she was expecting after Adora was sweet to her, apologetic, and Catra kicked her out of her own bedroom, but it was not this. She has the table set, two chairs opposite each other, glasses of water set out at both. She sits with her back to Catra, in her old seat from when they ate at this table together, fidgeting with her phone in her hands, a messaging app open. In front of the other chair – Catra’s old chair - are a few papers.</p><p>Tail lashing nervously behind her, Catra edges towards the kitchen. Adora startles as she walks by her, straining as if to stand before she relaxes at the realization that Catra is coming to sit across from her. Adora tucks her phone under the table, shoving it in her pocket as her eyes scan Catra.</p><p>Despite how out of her depth Catra feels in the room that used to be her kitchen, she smirks at the way Adora’s gaze lingers on her own little dress. Catra pointedly crosses her legs as she sits because, as always, she is not wearing underwear. She never wears dresses – it usually is not an issue.</p><p>“See something you like, princess?” Catra asks, raising an eyebrow. The term almost sounds like an endearment when she says it like that. She bites her tongue, ignoring it as she watches a delightful blush spread across Adora’s face. Adora quickly turns away, coughing into her hand before she makes eye contact with her again. Catra does not miss the way her eyes flick down to the paper on the table before landing on her face again. Catra does not take the hint – she knows what they need to do now, but she also <em>does not want to know</em>.</p><p>Besides, a traitorous part of her mind is telling her it is probably the lease agreement. That Adora wants her name off of it. It has been five months and Catra still has not given her the second key back.</p><p>“I’m still mad,” Catra starts, sighs, and stops, “but we’ve established that. I want to talk,” Catra says, finally, because the thoughts of what <em>could</em> be sitting before her are almost worse than finding out the truth.</p><p>Adora’s entire face pinches together with nerves. She bites her lip and her gaze flicks down again. “About?” she asks, as if she does not know. Although she has a point – they are going to need to talk about the bathroom eventually, too. Catra sighs, finally looking away, carefully casting her gaze out to through the sliding doors to the balcony and certainly not <em>down</em>.</p><p>“What really happened for those two days. You told me some stuff, then, but- It was <em>two days</em>. I know it was more than you visiting Bright Moon and realizing things were fucked up back home,” Catra says, ignores the fact that the only reason she doesn’t know is because she had started screaming at Adora every time she tried to explain it. She throws her head back, hands fisting at her sides as she stares at the ceiling and swallows her pride. “I was too hurt to listen, then. I want the truth, now,” she concedes, and it is as close as she is getting to an apology, right now, when she still does not know if Adora <em>deserves</em> one. Every deeply-engrained instinct in her body tells her Adora will just say that she wanted to leave – that she finally realized she could be better without her. She fights her body’s instinct to <em>run</em>.</p><p>Adora is silent for a long moment. Catra does not look down. Her mane drips on the floor.</p><p>“Look down, Catra,” Adora says, quietly. Catra sighs, squaring her shoulders and finally looking at the papers. She feels her breath catch when her eyes fall on the heading.</p><p>“What is this?” she asks, voice strained, even though the paper is plain as day.</p><p>“My hospital discharge record. I’m not-“ Adora cuts off, running a hand through her loose hair. Catra’s eyes follow the movement. “I’m not telling you because I want you to feel sorry for me. If anything, that should show you it really was not bad. I know I- I fucked up. But you deserve to know why. You have no reason to forgive me now, and I don’t know if this will give you any after, but at least you’ll- you’ll know,” she sounds distraught. Catra swallows the lump in her throat, glancing down and picking up words like <em>dehydration</em>, <em>anemia, trauma</em>, and <em>psychological treatment</em>.</p><p>“Tell me,” she requests.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>It starts with a training accident. So very common that Adora does not think anything of it. Glimmer is giving her a tour of the Bright Moon facilities. They had met on accident only that morning while Adora was out buying a new set of gym gear. Adora asked her about net-ball, assuming she was a fan since she had a Bright Moon jersey on, and suddenly she had a friend on another team.</p><p>It is strictly forbidden for Horde players to fraternize with players from other teams – an anti-poaching policy that has kept all of the Horde’s strongest players on its court for years. It has established the Horde as one of the most dominant teams of all time – that, and the fact they handpick and train their athletes from a young age. Adora gets it, she does, but Glimmer had seemed <em>lonely</em> once they started talking. She does not have any friends outside of her team – just like Adora.</p><p>Glimmer offers a tour of the nearby Bright Moon complex while they talk. Adora is in awe of the idea – not even family members, if a player has any, are allowed in the Horde’s complex. She gets a dangerous thrill at the thought of breaking such a rule, even if at Bright Moon it is apparently okay. When she asks about it Glimmer laughs that they have a VR walkthrough posted on their website if she really could not bring herself to enter the stadium.</p><p>Catra has always called her a thrill seeker in the weirdest ways, and so she says yes. She ends up being there when Bow falls, head cracking against the floor, splitting a gash along the back of his head. Small, but head wounds bleed a lot. Adora picks him up without thinking about it, like she has done for so many of her teammates, and carries him to the team infirmary under Glimmer’s directions. She fits herself into a back corner of the room in case she is needed again, not wanting to be in the way, and watches as people, teammates, the <em>owner</em> even come pouring in with a sick feeling welling up in her stomach.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know why that was my breaking point. Twenty years and a hundred different times that were so much worse, but I watched damn near every person who works at the facility come in there to talk to Bow. They had to keep him talking to keep him awake – concussion, you know? – but back in the Horde-“</p><p>“It would have been up to his partner, if not just himself,” Catra finishes. Adora nods. She does not look up from where her gaze is still boring a hole in the paperwork in front of Catra. Catra’s eyes do not leave her face.</p><p>This part is not a surprise – it is basically what Adora had said when she tried to justify signing away to Catra, during their fight when Catra moved out. Catra always understood why Adora would want to leave the Horde – it was the leaving <em>her</em> part she never understood. How she could strand her there without even telling her, worrying if the reason she didn’t tell her was because she didn’t want Catra to come with her - that she didn't want to be Catra’s partner anymore. Every time Adora begged her to leave after that it felt like a patronizing consolation prize.</p><p>Adora’s face now at least eases the fear, at least a bit. Gently, she nudges Adora’s knee with her foot. Adora startles.</p><p>“Right,” she reminds herself, starting again.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Adora spends the whole day with unease building in her gut, getting twitchier and twitchier as more people come and go. Glimmer stays the whole time, so she stays the whole time. She tries to distract herself with how fun the two are to hang out with – how nice it is to hang out with new people after spending years with just her teammates. She puts some music on her phone when Bow complains about the quiet, playing music on shuffle until her battery runs dead. They discover they have a lot of favourite bands in common.</p><p>It is not until she is alone in the room with Bow and Glimmer, fidgeting nervously with her dead phone that she voices the question that has been in her head all day: <em>is this normal?</em></p><p>Bow and Glimmer had been <em>confused</em>. The resulting conversation stretched to an hour – then it went beyond just management and player interactions, and stretched to two. Then Adora finally uttered the words “foster mom.” They sat there for three hours, stories and memories and <em>words</em> spilling forth from Adora like sinful confessions. Twenty years, and her cocoon of denial comes breaking down over a concussion.</p><p>By the time night falls she is shaking, weak from not-crying and then actually crying. She cannot imagine what Glimmer and Bow must think of her – how weak they must see her, how pathetic and needy she must seem. A broken girl so desperate she went wandering into the arms of the first two strangers who showed her kindness. They keep assuring her with kind words, with phrases like <em>that’s not normal</em> and <em>they shouldn’t treat you like that</em>.</p><p>She ran into Glimmer expecting to befriend someone who liked net-ball. She ended up with a risqué friendship with a rival player. And then without ever intending to, her rival did the one thing Adora could never do for herself: she saved her.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>“I was breaking down. You told me when you… packed up, that you knew the whole time. But I didn’t. I never let myself see it. My therapist says it was the only way my brain could cope with it, to keep going. You- you were so much stronger than me,” Adora stutters out. She still has not looked away from the hospital’s heading, emblazoned across the report. Catra knows her claws are dug into the tabletop. Neither of them have mentioned it. It is not the first piece of furniture in their apartment to get claw marks.</p><p>Catra wants to reach out for Adora – she does not do it. She can easily tell herself it is so she does not accidentally cut her – she thinks, for once, that is the only reason she holds back. Her own breathing is becoming ragged.</p><p>For the last five months, she told herself that Adora had left her for <em>comfort</em>. That there was no way she could be so blind to what happened around them – that it was seeing how nice she could have it somewhere else that made her leave, being with Catra not enough for her to stay. She never considered, really, that Adora left because of how bad it was, rather than how good it could be.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>The realization, the memories suddenly demanding to be reviewed, a whole day now without food and water while crying, the mental strain of being so <em>weak</em> in front of strangers – it all is too much.</p><p>Adora passes out the moment she tries to stand. She wakes up in the hospital.</p><p>She has not been in a hospital since she was fourteen and in a car accident. Horde players don’t go to the hospital – they are told they have all the treatment facilities they need in house. A technique to keep the frequency and severity of injuries from being reported, Adora will later realize.</p><p>She needs an IV. She drifts in and out. By morning they will determine the only thing physically wrong with her is dehydration and slight anemia, plus a minor bump on her forehead from when she fell. Once the shock hit on top of trying to move her fragile body, she had simply given out. They plan to release her first thing in the morning, after she has been stable for a while.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p> “I- All I could think about was how we needed to get out of there. But I wasn’t thinking straight. Glimmer came to visit me that morning and she brought Angella – Bright Moon’s manager. They offered to sign me right there. I was too proud, or afraid of being weak, I guess. I fought them on it until they convinced me it wasn’t just a pity case. Said I had the times for it – <em>we</em> had the times for it. That they would have been interested if they thought someone with our stats was looking, anyway,” Adora tells her, gaze finally pulled away from the paper to stare out the balcony doors.</p><p>Catra flinches at the reminder of her words, during that fight. How she said Bright Moon would throw Adora out when they realized she was nothing without her – that she was just a pity case. She knew none of it was true – she knew it was what she felt about <em>herself</em> – but she still said it.</p><p>“I took the deal. I don’t regret that part but- if I had been thinking straight at all I would have checked with you, first. After what I realized, no part of me could imagine you wanting to <em>stay</em>. I signed, and then I told them that I needed to go back and get you.”</p><p>Catra breaks, finally. The tears are rolling down her face, but she bites her lip and stays silent. All this time, she was sure Adora had not thought about her. It was a monumentally stupid thing to do, inconsiderate at the very least, to sign to another team and just assume Catra would want to come with her, away from everything they had ever known – but she was also right. Everything they had ever known was pain.</p><p>“Why?” she asks, finally, voice broken. She knows they both understand what she means. <em>Then why am I still here, alone?</em></p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Adora signs the contract in the hospital. The staff and other patients are nosy and she does not know it  – she has never been to one before really, and has no real experience dodging the paparazzi that spring up around majour players. The Horde protected its star players – trade secrets in their training, they claimed. Keeping them isolated, protecting them as assets rather than people.</p><p>The news of the contract hits before her cab has even pulled up outside. She is the first player to ever leave the Horde to sign to a different team and she had been anticipated to renew her contract as the shot-caller and one half of the team’s star duo. The news is on every sports site and channel before she has buckled her seatbelt. Her phone has been dead for almost a day now – she does not know Coach Weaver is forewarned. She pulls up to the Horde’s sports complex, fists clenched to stop her shaking arms. She knows she missed practice, knows Catra must have been worried sick, but between everything at the hospital and the realizations that have been rocking her, she had been so caught up thinking about <em>past Catra</em> and how she would take care of <em>future Catra</em> that she had forgotten to worry about <em>current Catra</em>.</p><p>Catra is a lot of things – determined, strong, snarky, chronically late – but she never misses practice completely. Partially because Adora never misses practice, and partially because they both know the consequences of doing so. When Adora walks through the gym doors she is met with every one of her teammates shocked faces – except Catra’s.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>“I already knew,” she whispers, even though she knows Adora knows that, now. “I went straight home. I thought – I thought you had to be there if you were not at the complex. I waited so <em>long</em> for you, Adora.”</p><p>“I know,” Adora whispers. She finally makes eye contact with Catra. Her expression is every bit as pained as her words. “But I didn’t know then. And- and everyone started yelling at me - Lonnie was <em>pissed</em> – and no one would tell me where you were. And then Coach Weaver showed up.”</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Adora can’t even recount that conversation. It is too hard to, and she does not remember much of it except for the emotions she had felt during it. She had taken one look at Coach Weaver and remembered a dozen different things – a dozen different incidents – all that should have added up in her head before then.</p><p>Adora tried to yell at her. Coach Weaver responded by systematically taking her apart piece-by-piece, leaving her standing there, gasping and shaking as she crooned about how Catra <em>hated</em> her for leaving, and for never protecting her, and taking <em>advantage</em> of her when she was too hurt to really choose, and how she would never forgive her.</p><p>Adora does not know what that was supposed to accomplishment. Hurt her, break her down like Coach Weaver always did, but she had the legal document to prevent her from being the one to build her back up, at least for the next two years.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>“She was stalling,” Catra tells her. Adora looks up at her, surprised. Catra scoffs, turning her head away. Even now, she cannot see all of Coach Weaver’s machinations. “She knew I went home to wait for you. I ran out in the middle of practice. She kept you there as long as she could so my thoughts would keep spiraling. And it worked, didn’t it? I convinced myself you did not want me. I left.”</p><p>She traces a circle on the tabletop with her claw. She can tell Adora is struggling across from her, but she does not know how to make it any clearer for her.</p><p>“But, why? I was already signed away – it was too late,” Adora asks. She has tears in her eyes, probably has for a while now. Catra has found it hard to look at her ever since the hospital was mentioned.</p><p>“I think she believed I was the only thing that could bring you back,” she whispers the confession, voice hesitant and shaky. She also was not enough for her to stay in the first place but – she understands now, that was not part of it. It <em>should</em> have been, seven months stretching between them, but Adora had rushed in headfirst, with no plan, like she always does. Catra feels her lip twitch up, just a bit. It should not be endearing, not when it led to them being <em>here</em>, but she always had a soft spot for her partner.</p><p>Adora snorts. “Well, then she got one thing right,” Adora tells her, voice rueful. Catra feels her breath catch. When she meets Adora’s eyes the tears are gone – or at least, not forming anymore. She looks tired, worried – and hopeful.</p><p>“I know I fucked up. I should have found a way to call you as soon as I woke up. I never should have made a decision like that without asking you. We’re supposed to be a <em>unit</em>, dammit, and-“ Adora cuts herself off, looking away. “I think that is why I was so bad at explaining it. I knew you had every right to- to hate me. You wouldn’t answer your phone – and I get why you were avoiding me, I <em>do</em> – but I was so out of my depth, and you were always my rock, and then you show up here already moving out and fuming-“</p><p>The words die between them. That is one day neither of them need to talk about – they were both there, and it will only hurt them more. Enough has been passed between them now to understand what they were both dealing with when they said those things.</p><p>Catra does not know what to say – she doesn’t even know what to <em>think</em>. Five months of betrayal, and Adora may have been a fucking idiot, but she didn’t actually <em>intend</em> to leave her there. Except-</p><p>“What was your plan? I still had seven months left on my contract. The Horde has never let someone out early,” Catra asks, because she has to know. Has to have this assurance that Adora wanted to take her with her not just as her friend, or girlfriend, but as her partner.</p><p>Adora laughs, a bit bitterly, looking up at Catra with a wince before dropping her gaze to her hands. “I didn’t have much of one, to be honest. I told you, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I honestly thought I could threaten to expose the conditions on the team and Coach Weaver would just – let you go. I was already gone at that point, and you can’t just split a duo up and keep the stats, anyway. It was stupid, I know. The moment I got in a room with her again I realized that. But I just – I was so desperate to get us out of there I honestly believed it would just work out, somehow.”</p><p>“You’re an idiot,” Catra tells her. There is no heat there, just acceptance and exasperation.</p><p>“Yeah, I know,” Adora tells her, and she actually smiles a bit at that.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>For a while it is silent. Adora does not push it. It is not a comfortable silence – but it is not a loaded one, either. She got through the explanation, at least. Catra practically gouged her claws straight through the tabletop, but she <em>stayed</em>. She listened.</p><p>They both sip their drinks. Adora’s throat feels tight – she knows after the night Catra had hers must feel far worse. Adora does her best not to fidget, watching Catra as she stares out the balcony doors. Adora wants, desperately, to ask for forgiveness. She does not. Catra will give it – or she won’t. She at least knows, now.</p><p>Adora wants to ask about the night before, but she feels strung out, pushing her luck. They will have to talk about it – eventually – but for the moment she lets herself just drink in the sight of Catra’s face, not relaxed, but not screwed up in anger. Her tail is draped across her lap, awkwardly falling out from the hem of the absolutely wicked dress Adora is doing her best to ignore, her ears occasionally twitching as she thinks.</p><p>Eventually, Catra’s eyes wander back to hers. She winces when she catches Adora’s gaze. It makes Adora’s breath catch with worry, but she stays silent. Waits. Catra sighs, staring at her for a long moment before her expression softens.</p><p>“I’ve spent so long being so mad at you, and missing you, and then being mad I was missing you when I thought you didn’t want me,” she murmurs, ears falling down the sides of her head. Adora just nods, wordlessly. It did not take her long to figure out how shitty the whole thing had been from Catra’s side – that was when the self-loathing really blossomed. “I- I need some time, to process what you said. To stop being mad. I can’t just – come back here, right away, and be fine,” Catra tells her, eyes fixed determinedly on Adora’s left ear.</p><p>Adora’s heart sings at the implications of <em>right away</em>. She nods, eagerly.</p><p>“Besides, I still have six weeks left. If Coach Weaver found out we were talking again…” Catra makes eye contact at that. They both share the same thread of apprehension.</p><p>“I messed up, Catra. However long you need, I’ll give it to you. I miss you every damn second, but it is worth it to wait for you to be happy when you’re here,” Adora tells her, straining forward in her chair from the effort of keeping still, keeping from wrapping her partner in her arms.</p><p>Catra starts crying at that. Not sobs, just tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. She looks stricken. Okay, maybe therapy is doing something for her, after all. That seemed to be the right thing to say.</p><p>“I- Ok,” she manages, voice small. “For what it is worth, I should have listened. I wouldn’t have, but I <em>should</em> have. I was supposed to be your- your partner, and you had to go through that alone, because I could not look past my own pain,” Catra says. Adora’s reaction is instant. She sits forward, mouth opening to argue, feeling her face twist and harden, hands fisting at her sides. <em>She</em> was the one who vanished, who didn’t even ask, and then completely failed to explain. Catra raises a hand in the air, palm open, and Adora freezes, instant and instinctual. Waiting permission. “Don’t, okay? Just take it.”</p><p>Adora lets her shoulders fall, slumping back in her chair. The silence stretches for a moment until Catra apparently can’t stand it anymore, standing suddenly. The screech of the chair against the laminate makes Adora wince, but she tracks the movement. Catra stands there, unsure, before shaking her head.</p><p>“I… I should go back. Scorpia’s probably worried,” she finally says, arms wrapping around herself, tugging at the hem of the flannel. Adora stamps down on the spike of jealousy that flares in her throat for a moment. Catra still sees it – she smirks for a moment and trails her gaze down to Adora’s absolutely ruined neck. “You have nothing to worry about, princess. You’re the only one spending time with me in my head,” she practically purrs.</p><p>Adora feels heat flood through her. She was not prepared for Catra to flirt with her, not now. Five months without this attention apparently makes it light her nerve endings on fire, even after actually touching in the bathroom. That had been different, betrayed and angry – this is genuine, cautious, exploratory. She feels her face glow with embarrassment, determinedly looking at anywhere but Catra and <em>that fucking dress</em>.</p><p>Catra approaches her from around the table. Adora looks up, staring at her hand as Catra reaches out to her.</p><p>“Let’s go for a drive?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi, welcome to Too Much About PTSD . This whole chapter exists to explore the fact that Adora does not know she is abused at the start of the show. Some people are like Catra and know – but let’s just say I know a bit more about Adora’s experience. Also, the only time I have ever been in the hospital is because I passed out from just. forgetting to drink water lmao and that seemed like a very Adora thing to do - to just completely forget to take care of herself.<br/>For those tracking the song references in this fic, yes that was an Old Wounds by PVRIS reference in the first scene (lead singer is a lesbian, get with it if you aren’t already). The song is number three on my catradora playlist.<br/>On a real note, trying to write an apology that felt stilted, while also being genuine, while also not using the words “I’m sorry” REALLY made me appreciate how shitty a lot of public apologies are. Especially the “if you were hurt” ones. Like, seriously.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Going Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“I want a do-over. On the bathroom.”<br/>Catra goes home, but for real.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Actual mentions of sports? In my sports fic? It’ll happen eventually – not today tho lmao.<br/>BUT speaking of which, thank you to the commenter who asked me what net-ball actually is for this fic! I'm writing a little run-down essay that I will post on my tumblr and link here probably once I post chapter 7 since it will become at least tangentially relevant then.<br/>Remember when I said this fic could be 3 chapters or 10? Well I don’t know what I was thinking honestly. Part of that was because I wasn't sure if I would continue beyond their initial reconciliation, but still lmao. I’m fairly certain this is going to be 10, its roughly outlined as 10, but I might change the chapter count later.<br/>Friendly reminder that <a href="https://n7punk.tumblr.com/post/625073106917212160/chapter-four-of-catcher-is-going-up-today-for">this is the dress Catra is wearing.</a></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Adora still drives like a nervous golden retriever. It should not make Catra’s chest clench, a fond smile tugging at her lips as she settles back in the passenger seat and watches Adora straining forward at the wheel. Ever since Adora bought her car at sixteen, pooling together her match bonuses so she could have a space truly hers, driving has always been a little escape for them. Adora would take them nearly everywhere, her car a place where they could just be <em>them</em> for a while even when they were still Coach Weaver's foster wards, forced to sneak around in the dead of night. The car still holds the lingering scents of absinthe and rum, with traces of sweet soap, hatred, and sandalwood from the night before – but it also still holds that permanent singed smell from when Catra had her lighter tricks phase at seventeen that was ended just as abruptly as it started.</p><p>“You know I don’t get blackout but – I did some really embarrassing shit last night, didn’t I?” Catra asks, cheeks heating at the memory of Adora stripping down to her sports bra and tiny shorts in the street just to get Catra to relax enough to let go of her.</p><p>“If I had not been worried you were going to die, I would have found it cute,” Adora assures her, grinning at the windshield. She does not look over at Catra – she never takes her eyes off the road unless the car is fully stopped. She says she will crash if she does.</p><p>Catra distinctly remembers licking Adora’s neck and purring, not even in a sexy way, and decides not to grace that with a response.</p><p>The drive to Scorpia’s place is not long; midday on a Friday does not afford for too much traffic. Adora plays music off her phone, humming along and stealing glances Catra’s way at every stoplight. After the fourth time Catra catches her looking she sighs. It is not as if she has not been openly watching Adora this whole time, but at least she has not been sending her small, hopeful smiles. The next time Adora’s hand moves to the stick shift, Catra turns to look out the passenger window as she places her hand over Adora’s. Something stupid she started doing after they had a whispered conversation about being really <em>together</em> together once they turned eighteen and had their own place. Adora’s hand spasms underneath her touch, but out of the corner of her eye Catra watches her relax.</p><p>The drive is nice, peaceful, just getting to spend time with Adora after all <em>this</em> between them for so long. It is only interrupted when Adora’s phone starts lighting up with texts, an avalanche of beeps interrupting her playlist. After three straight minutes of ignoring her phone’s lit screen, Adora sighs and inclines her head towards Catra.</p><p>“That’s Glimmer and Bow, it has to be. Can you tell me what they want?” she asks. Catra pretends the questions does not send a spasm through her. Pretends that the fact Adora still trusts her enough to have her read her texts to her, texts that are no doubt <em>about her</em>, does not do painful things to her heart. With a slightly unsteady hand, Catra picks up the phone and nervously enters Adora’s old passcode. It unlocks and she is greeted with 38 unread messages from a single group chat.</p><p>“They want to know if they should call the fire department, ambulance, or police,” she reads off. That information came via five more texts than necessary, but Adora is driving. Summary seems best. Adora laughs.</p><p>“Tell them none,” she responds. Catra types the message out, not thinking until after she sends it that she did not add the stupid period at the end that Adora puts on all her texts. For a moment, she can feel the five months stretching between them.</p><p>“I’m telling them it is me,” she adds, as she sends a follow-up. Glimmer has already sent a message asking if that was a cry for help. She scrolls up through the backlog. “They want to know if either of us are dead. Or have eaten. Or have clothes on. Also something about sharing with a tabby? I don’t know, it looks like it is in cry-speak.” Adora snorts.</p><p>“Glimmer has ADHD. Typing can be weird for her. You figure it out eventually. And they mean a literal tabby, not a magicat,” Adora says, like that clarifies anything.</p><p>A new message pops up, the first since Catra said it was her responding.</p><p>&gt;&gt; Where’s Adora?</p><p><em>Driving</em> is the reply. There is a long moment of silence before a new message pops up.</p><p>“They, uh, Glimmer wants to know if- nope, you know what, they don’t get to know that,” Catra manages, typing back a reply about <em>public decency</em>.</p><p>Glimmer shoots back that a phone screen is not public.</p><p>“Glimmer has no concept of personal boundaries. You get used to it,” Adora says, shrugging. “Tell them we are almost there and I will call them later.”</p><p>Catra types the message, setting the phone on silent and putting it back down. She pretends her cheeks are not flaming at the innuendo of Glimmer’s message. She tries to ignore Adora’s message from the start of the barrage of unread messages, sent two hours ago.</p><p><em>I’m either going to get her back or fuck this up forever. Wish me luck</em>. Catra worries on her lip as Adora pulls onto Scorpia’s street. She pushes down the wriggling feeling in her chest as she directs Adora to the parking lot of the small apartment complex. Adora eyes the mildly-dilapidated building suspiciously.</p><p>“Doesn’t seem like a great area,” she settles on saying, diplomatically. Catra laughs as she checks she has her phone, tucking it into the pocket of Adora’s stolen flannel.</p><p>“You can say it is a piece of shit. I know. But I haven’t been mugged walking to the corner store yet,” Catra tells her, unbuckling and turning her entire body in the seat to face Adora. Her hand is on the door handle, but she does not pull on it, not yet. Adora rolls her eyes.</p><p>“Catra, you’re obviously not-so-secretly jacked and have <em>knives on your fingers</em>. Not to mention you’re kind of recognizable. Scorpia is probably more likely to get mugged here than you,” Adora tells her, but her gaze is nervously flitting over Catra. Catra tries to fight down the blush at that – it has been a long time since she has been on the receiving end of Adora’s weird, casual compliments.</p><p>“I’ll call you, okay? When I’m ready to talk,” she tells her, because she has to say it before she leaves, and she does not know what else she is steeling herself for. Adora smiles at her with soft eyes.</p><p>“Whenever you’re ready,” she promises. Catra takes a deep breath and can’t force herself to take the final step. She gives up on whatever she was trying to set herself up for, leaning forward to bump their foreheads together like they used to do as teenagers, a secret language all their own from when they still had to hide their kisses in the dead of night. She feels Adora draw in a breath before she leans in, too. One of her hands comes up to rest on Catra’s shoulder. “Whenever you’re ready,” she repeats, softer this time.</p><p>Catra manages to throw her one last smile before she practically sprints from the car and its charged air. She feels ridiculous as she forces herself to keep a casual gate all the way to the stairs up to the third floor. It has been years since such small moments have made her feel this nervous, but, well, they kind of are not together anymore. Maybe it makes sense to revert to how they were as teenagers, two kids wanting but afraid to take the next step.</p><p>She climbs to the third floor, ignoring that she can hear Adora’s car idling in the parking lot down below. She knows Adora – Scorpia’s apartment is motel-style with exterior front doors, so Adora won’t leave until she sees Catra has made it safely inside her front door. Catra stamps down on the rumble that wants to roll through her chest at that.</p><p>She makes it to Scorpia’s door and knocks. She hears what could very well be a catastrophe take place inside, likely Scorpia knocking something over in the cramped space, followed by Scorpia swearing in her completely-PG way. There is the scrape of the latch against the door and then it is being flung open.</p><p>“Catra!” Scorpia practically booms, and Catra winces, edging around her to slink through the doorway.</p><p>“Hangover, Scorpia?” Catra reminds her, even though she herself had forgotten about it with everything else going on in her head. She stalks to the couch, knocked over slightly off from the center of the room, and throws herself back against it. “How did drills go this morning?” she asks.</p><p>“I- uh – I don’t know. I didn’t go,” Scorpia says, sheepishly, moving to stand nearby and rub at the back of her neck.</p><p>Catra raises an eyebrow at her. Drills are not the same as practice – missing them doesn’t carry quite the same weight – but Scorpia is as squeaky clean as Adora had been, record completely untarnished. Coach Weaver said it took someone like that to reign her in.</p><p>“Entrapta wasn’t off-the-wall then? You actually went home with one of the Hippies?” Catra asks, unable to hide how impressed she is as she leans back on the couch. Scorpia suddenly has a new light to her. Bold enough of her to hookup, but to <em>fraternize</em> with another team had seemed far beyond her. Scorpia actually flushes, nodding anxiously.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I know that might be - weird for you, especially because you had that whole thing with your ex-“ Scorpia starts. Catra raises her hand to cut her off. It has the same effect on her it did on Adora – she stops in her tracks. Maybe Adora is onto something with the knife-fingers theory.</p><p>“I thought we agreed not to talk about that, Scorpia,” Catra cuts her off, because she does not want to do this right now. She wants to praise Scorpia for having the guts to skip out, and neg her about going home with a team Plumeria girl, and absolutely <em>not</em> acknowledge the weird first two months after she had moved in where Scorpia had been fighting an obvious crush on her and doing everything she could to not beg to be a rebound.</p><p>Maybe it is hurtful – maybe not talking about it is the only thing keeping them friends.</p><p>“Uh, yeah, right. I, um, what about you though? Entrapta said you went out to call a ride, but then you weren’t here this morning and those- oh, wow, those are not your clothes. How did I not notice that before?” Scorpia says, gaze transfixed on the little black dress now. Catra tightens where her legs are crossed, but merely shrugs. She put the dress on for Adora, and she may think the healthiest thing Scorpia can do with her crush is bury it, but she knows she looks hot.</p><p>“Phone was dead. Hot girl picked me up. Been pillow-talking ever since,” she says, forcing her voice casual as she shrugs. Scorpia looks like she is drawing a mental picture, and then lighting it on fire.</p><p>“I really thought, given how the night started…” Scorpia trails off, humming as she tries to tactfully choose her words. It makes Catra want to laugh, but instead she just raises an eyebrow and flicks her tail in amusement. “… that you would still be, uh, hung up on Adora?” Scorpia tries.</p><p>Catra breathes out and smiles at her friend, bright and easy. “No, I don’t think I am, anymore.” Scorpia looks shocked, and unconvinced, but a bit hopeful, like maybe she wants to believe Catra. She smiles back at Catra, anyway.</p><p>Catra is telling the truth, even if it does not mean what Scorpia thinks it does.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, Adora, spill. What happened?” Bow asks without even a greeting as soon as the three-way call starts. Adora does not mind. She knows she has not been the most communicative today, and they are probably worried given the last message she sent off almost two hours ago. She had to put Catra first, today. Make up for how much she had <em>not</em> done that five months ago.</p><p>“You know how I was gearing up to talk to her? Well, she came to me first,” Adora says, not even ashamed of the fragile happiness in her voice as she speaks. She had barely waited for Scorpia’s front door to close before she sent a string of emojis to the group chat. Her phone had started ringing before she was out of the parking lot.</p><p>“She <em>came</em> first, or-?” Glimmer asks, because she is her, and she has to. It cuts the tension on the line. Adora is riding such a high she actually laughs at that. Besides, she kind of deserves it for the shit she pulled at the party.</p><p>“We <em>talked</em>. She asked me to tell her what happened during that day, and the next, and she listened. She even – filled in some gaps for me. About why Coach Weaver-“ Adora cuts herself off. While she is driving is not the time.</p><p>“That’s good, Adora. Did she apologize?” Bow asks. Adora scoffs.</p><p>“She didn’t need to,” Adora argues. She hears Glimmer start to protest and cuts her off, “but she did, yeah. I tried to fight her on it – she wasn’t having it. She never took my shit,” Adora says, stupidly fond.</p><p>Adora is aware of how Glimmer and Bow feel about Catra. About how they have accepted she is in a bad place, because it is the same place they pulled Adora from five months ago, and they know her actions make sense from that perspective. They still insist that Catra should have heard Adora out. Glimmer is mad about it, Bow a little more accepting, but they also seem to understand there is a gap there between what they can know about as outsiders and what <em>is</em>. They know that regardless, Catra is important to Adora.</p><p>“Catra said you were driving. Did you take her back to… wherever she is staying now?” Glimmer asks, cautiously, like she expects the prospect to make Adora cry. Adora gets it; she has been stupidly fragile these last few months, between her entire world changing, and her entire past being thrown into a new light, and then losing Catra on top of all of it.</p><p>“Yeah. She said she needs time. To process, or whatever. She has been living with Scorpia, apparently. The lady who ditched her for a hookup at the party? And I am going to have <em>words</em> with her about that, I promise you-“</p><p>“Adora,” Bow cuts in. Adora halts herself, sighing.</p><p>“Yeah, I drove her back. But she… implied that she would like to come home, soon. She- I’m so bad at this, guys. She thought I didn’t even miss her,” Adora confesses as she reaches a traffic light.</p><p>“<em>How?</em>” is the demand from Glimmer.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Catra has been trying to bury the overwhelming crush of missing Adora under being angry at her for five months. Now that she is trying to move past that anger – and if she is honest with herself, always had felt it more directed at herself as loathing rather than at Adora – she finds herself struggling to breathe, sometimes, when she turns to her right and Adora just <em>is not there</em>. One day together, and five months of conditioning herself are undone like that.</p><p>Catra thinks that her anger was justified, given what she knew - but that was not the truth, not the whole truth anyway, and she refused to hear otherwise when Adora tried to explain it. The flames of anger cool surprisingly fast; she has always had a temper, but Adora has also always been the one to calm her. It is almost natural to let her betrayal slip away in the face of the prospect of having Adora back.</p><p>Catra wanted to take enough time to be <em>fair</em> to Adora the next time she sees her - she makes it four days before she has an absolutely shit time at the practice she still has to drag herself to every other day. She and Scorpia – they work fine, but they aren’t <em>Catra and Adora</em>. Scorpia’s stats have nearly recovered since switching to partner with Catra – Catra’s have not, not to what they used to be. Coach Weaver is upset about Catra’s lack of improvement, like she expected her to ever recover from losing her second half. Especially when that second half is <em>Adora</em>, damn near the best shot-caller in the sport. It is the final jeer from the after-practice “pep talk” that has her breaking down and finally texting Adora.</p><p><em>You really think you will ever prove Adora wrong for leaving you with a score like this</em>?</p><p>Coach Weaver does not know shit about them, and Catra <em>knows</em> half of this fight was engineered by her, now. It still makes a crystal of dread grow within her. Adora reached out, <em>had</em> been reaching out, and she might not have turned away, this time, but she did not reach back like she should have. She wants Adora back, and what she needs to do to get there might be terrifying, but losing her again would be worse.</p><p>She tries to take comfort in how wrong Coach Weaver has always been about them as she texts Adora, hands shaking, to ask when she gets out of practice, like she does not already know. Adora does not know she knows, though, and as much as she wanted to be <em>better</em> the next time Adora saw her, she also does not want to admit quite yet how desperate she had been during those five months. She already feels bad enough about how she has treated Adora over this whole thing – she already feels bad enough about <em>the bathroom</em> – she does not need to add worrying about justifying her weird little stalker impulse on top of everything else.</p><p>When Adora texts her back to ask where they should meet, Catra spends six minutes going back and forth between typing <em>your</em> or <em>our place</em> before she settles simply on <em>the apartment</em>. Adora sends her back a string of five emojis. Catra flings her phone into her bag and tries not to think about the fact that Adora is at practice, right now, posting new stats without her. That Adora has also had five months to adjust, and Catra does not even know who her new partner is. That the new season starts in two weeks, and Bright Moon may have been keeping Adora out of the pre-season events, but all eyes will be on her – <em>without Catra</em> – once real matches start. That no matter how things shake out, Adora will spend the first three weeks of the season playing without her for Bright Moon, and she will be doing the same for the Horde.</p><p>She catches a ride back to Scorpia’s place with her after practice and tries to not obviously pack a bag. Partially because she does not need Scorpia asking, and partially because she feels foolish for doing it, and then even more foolish for feeling stupid over it.</p><p>She spends forty minutes of the hour she has before leaving staring at the pile of clothes she calls a closet and debating. It is ridiculous, because Adora has seen her in everything in it and absolutely <em>nothing</em>, but she cannot help but feel like she did on the night where they had their first date that they <em>called</em> a date. They had been together for years, kissing in dark hallways and curling up in each other’s beds, but it had still felt significant because it was the first time they could <em>say</em> it without the ghost of Coach Weaver looming over them.</p><p>Catra keeps circling back around to the dress she took, remembering how Adora had struggled to even look at her in it. She pulls it back on and fights her hair until she decides messy works with the look. Adora always liked her hair no matter what it looked like, anyway. She does not put the flannel back on – she wants Adora to be able to see her.</p><p>Scorpia catches her leaving, like when she and Adora would sneak out from Coach Weaver’s house to stargaze in the woods at night. “A reprise, really, Wildcat?” Scorpia asks her, eyeing the dress. Catra flips her off, but she cannot fight the smile on her face.</p><p>“I have to bring it back, don’t I? If I play my cards right, don’t worry about waiting up,” Catra tells her. Scorpia looks like she wants to say more, but Catra is going to be late at this point, so she rushes out with a wave thrown over her shoulder. She takes solace in the fact that no sane person would ever assume this dress could belong to Adora – whatever Scorpia suspects, it certainly is not the truth.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Adora shows Glimmer the texts, makes some puppy-dog eyes, and gets out of practice twenty minutes early. She heads straight home, anxiously bouncing in her seat the whole way. When she gets back to the apartment, she hurries to change out of her sweaty practice clothes. There is not enough time for a full shower, but she puts her hair back up to keep it dry and washes off the rest of her quickly.</p><p>She ends up in a drapey shirt Catra had bought for her because she liked her tits in it and one of her nicer pairs of shorts. She lets her hair down again, because she knows Catra likes it that way. She does not want to look like she presumed that anything was going to happen tonight – for all she knows Catra is just going to tell her that she still needs time - but she also does not want to look like she had not tried for her.</p><p>After getting ready, she barely has a minute left to fidget on the couch before she hears Catra’s knock, the casual scrape of a claw at the end like always to distinguish herself. It is dramatic, and unnecessary, and makes Adora’s heart sing as she bounds over to the front door. She is not prepared for the sight that greets her when she opens it.</p><p><em>That dress</em> is going to be the death of her. Adora does not know why Catra chose it in the first place – where she had even gotten it from – or why Catra is wearing it again, but she can hardly take her eyes off it. Catra does not wear dresses as a rule, so Adora knows this one has to have been hers, and she really does not know why Catra pulled it out except to <em>kill her</em>.</p><p>“Hey, Adora,” Catra chuckles, amused, and Adora realizes she has been <em>staring</em>. She shuts her mouth, which was also hanging open, and takes a hurried step back from the doorway to let Catra in, fighting a blush down.</p><p>“I, uh, you look-“ <em>beautiful, ravishing, like a walking wet-dream, take me now</em>, “- good,” she manages. Catra has the nerve to cackle at her as she trails past her to the couch. It is fine – Adora has earned it, and she drinks in the sight of Catra happy and relaxed with greedy eyes. Belatedly, she turns around and actually closes the front door. She takes a second to close her eyes and breathe as she locks the door, gathering herself to not make a damn fool of herself again.</p><p>She turns back around, finding Catra sitting on the couch, knees pressed together and looking at her almost shyly. All of Adora’s shredded sense of control falls apart again because Catra is not <em>shy</em>. Not when they were together, not when they were apart, not when they were exes and she was telling Adora to get on her knees and eat her out. <em>Shy</em> and <em>Catra</em> don’t go in the same sentence.</p><p>Adora’s brain is not going to reboot from this. She mentally relabels the look as ‘unsure’ so that she can regain the ability to move her legs. Adora manages to walk over to join Catra on the couch without tripping on her own feet. It is only once she reaches it that she notices the oversized backpack dropped at Catra’s feet. She must have walked through the front door with it, but Adora’s brain was not functioning past perceiving that dress. Adora feels herself draw in a sharp breath, gaze darting hopefully between the bag and Catra’s suddenly-explicable expression. Adora recognizes the bag – it is the one that Catra had walked out of the apartment with five months ago.</p><p>“Are you staying?” she asks, just a little too breathless and hopeful. Catra looks up at her with wide eyes, ears downturned. Her lip is caught between her teeth, expression tinging just as hopeful as Adora’s voice.</p><p>“Is that okay?” she asks, and Adora <em>can’t</em>. She is moving, sitting down and reaching for Catra, hauling her over into her lap. Catra laughs, a little startled and thoroughly breathless, but she follows, settling to straddle across Adora’s lap. The dress strains at her thighs, barely covering <em>anything</em>.</p><p><em>Focus, Adora</em>.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>, Catra. I want you home,” Adora tells her, gaze locked on hers and hands running down her sides. Catra trembles, just a bit, under her touch. Her eyes fall closed for just a moment as she leans forward, meeting Adora’s gaze with that piercing intensity when she opens them again. Adora can feel a faint rumble in Catra’s chest, beneath her skimming hands, but it is soft enough she cannot hear it. She can’t have that. She raises one hand, watching Catra’s gaze dart to it as she flips Catra’s hair aside so she can reach behind her ear and scratch at the spot she knows drives her crazy. The purr erupts into the room, Catra flushing a little even as she leans into the touch.</p><p>“I- I want to stay. I’ll stay tonight. It’s just complicated – with the team,” Catra tries to explain, every word in vibrato as she nuzzles back into Adora’s hand. She is making a desperate attempt at maintaining eye contact even as her eyes become half-lidded and her body vibrates beneath Adora’s touch. This spot always made her purr, but the surprising intensity makes Adora suddenly aware that no one has touched Catra like this in months – with casual affection, understanding what she needs, wants, and likes.</p><p>“Yeah?” Adora prompts, trying for conversation but reveling in the sight of Catra’s bare collarbones as she throws her head back into the touch, eyes fluttering and hair falling in a curtain. <em>Damn</em> this dress. Why did she ever buy it, and where was it, so she can go back and buy every other thing on their racks.</p><p>“I- give me a minute,” Catra gives up on words, hand coming up to anchor Adora’s forearm like she had any plans of pulling it away. Adora feels a thrumming happiness in her chest, like a hum running through her heart, at getting to just <em>see</em> Catra like this, touch her like this. She slips her other hand around Catra’s back, stroking the fur between her shoulder blades, petting her like she always liked. The purr rumbles through all her extremities. Catra’s breathing is just a touch too shaky to only be being affected by the purr.</p><p>“I- I didn’t – the entire five <em>months</em>, Adora,” Catra stammers out, pressing back into the touch. It takes Adora a minute to put that together – to realize Catra is just as unused to the vibrating rumble between them now as she is. Adora feels her breath catch, renewing her efforts as Catra practically snuggles into her affection.</p><p>They need to talk, maybe, definitely, but this feels monumentally more important. Like if she stops eliciting this sound from Catra she will not be able to draw breath again. Funny, how necessary this feels to keep functioning, when the sight of Catra like this is also shutting down all her higher thought capabilities.</p><p>Adora’s fingers are starting to feel numb under the vibration, though, so she manages to slow her affections, easing down the intensity until she finally lets her hands fall, settling lightly on Catra’s hips. The purr ramps down, stuttering to a halt, and Adora continues to breathe, but it isn’t the <em>same</em>.</p><p>“I missed you,” she whispers, because it is all she can think about. Catra’s eyes finally open again, a small smile curling at her lips as she leans forward, throwing her arms over Adora’s shoulders.</p><p>“I missed you too,” she purrs, eyes searching Adora’s face before landing on her lips and slowly, carefully, she leans forward. Like she almost expects Adora to pull away. She did not four days ago, and she certainly is not <em>now</em>.</p><p>The kiss is gentle, soft and cautious. Barely a slide of contact, more of a tease than any real pressure. Adora flexes her hands on Catra’s hips, unspoken permission, and Catra barely waits a moment after the first one is done to press in for a second. Adora can’t breathe, not anymore, but she doesn’t want to. All she needs is this, Catra happy and content in her lap, kissing her with love again.</p><p>When they part, both of them are panting despite the gentleness of the embrace.</p><p>“I- I wanted to do that before. In the car,” Catra confesses, eyes darting over Adora’s face. Adora smiles back at her.</p><p>“I know,” she tells her, running a hand soothingly up and down her side. The forehead touch had not been subtle, but it had been what she was ready for. Adora was not going to push Catra, not now, not ever. But thinking about what Catra is ready for her brings her back to the start of this conversation. “You said you will stay tonight?” she asked, trying to keep the disappointment from tinging her voice at <em>just tonight</em>.</p><p>Catra lets out a shaky breath, pressing a bit closer to rest her head against Adora’s shoulder. Adora raises her arms, and Catra ends up cuddled against her chest, looking up at her. “Yeah. I can’t- Coach Weaver ordered for me to live with Scorpia. To <em>bond</em> in time for the season that I’m probably not playing at this point, but whatever. I can try to- move some stuff back here, slowly. But I have to stay there, on paper,” Catra tells her. She sounds unsure, and bitter. The words make Adora tighten her grip again, anger flaring for a moment before she stamps it down. There is a lot to address there – Catra not having a choice on where she ended up after their fight, <em>the season I’m not playing</em>, moving back in over time, but-</p><p>“She can’t do that,” she hisses, despite herself. Catra looks up at her, eyes wide and searching, the one ear not plastered against her shoulder twitching. “It’s not in your contract. Players can live wherever they damn well please,” she argues.</p><p>Catra laughs, derisive and thoroughly bitter, turning her head away for a moment before she looks back at Adora to speak. “Maybe, but in case you’ve forgotten in the last five months, she can make my life hell if I don’t. Besides, it <em>is</em> in my contract that I can’t <em>fraternize</em> with rival players,” Catra tells her, lips twisting into the ghost of a smile at the end. She reaches up, stroking a touch along Adora’s cheek that she leans into gladly.</p><p>“Scorpia was fraternizing herself at the party, if I remember correctly,” Adora says, a little bitterly. She wants to bring it up, Scorpia ditching Catra like that but- they have other things they need to talk about. She looks down, searching Catra’s gaze for <em>something</em>. Catra just looks back, patient, waiting, a little bit hopeful.</p><p>“If you could, would you stay?” Adora asks her. Catra holds her gaze a moment longer before she nods. Adora releases the breath she was holding. “That is enough for me. We’ll make it work, however we have to,” Adora promises her.</p><p>Catra releases a small trill, seeming to shock herself as much as Adora if the way she freezes and stares is anything to go by. She flushes a dark shade, ears flattening to her head, as Adora <em>stares</em>.</p><p>“Do that again,” Adora requests, transfixed, because she has not heard that sound - not from Sober Catra, anyway - since they were teenagers.</p><p>“I don’t think I <em>can</em>,” Catra confesses, a bit flustered, still unable to tear her eyes away from Adora’s gaze. Adora bites her lip, staring back. From the blush deepening on Catra’s face she knows Catra has read her thoughts and knows Adora is going to be doing everything she can for the foreseeable future to elicit that sound again.</p><p>Flustered, Catra sits up properly, pulling herself out of Adora’s arms. Catra coughs, nervously, as she settles to be properly straddling Adora’s thighs and facing her again.</p><p>“I really don’t want to ruin this,” Catra says, gesturing between them, and Adora bites down on the inside of her cheek, “but we should – talk,” she says, like it is the absolute last thing she wants. She grimaces a little as she speaks, but she stays facing Adora, only a foot of air between their chests. Maintaining eye contact is clearly a strain for her, but Adora cannot look away. Her heart feels like it is pounding. “I need to apologize. And – I want a do-over. On the bathroom.”</p><p>Adora’s chest feels like it might be trying to kill her, so she says the first thing she can think of, “You want to have sex in the bathroom?” she asks, eyebrow raised. It works. Catra throws her head back and laughs again, a musical sound that cuts the tension building. She looks back down at Adora with fond eyes.</p><p>“No, I want to have sex in <em>our bed</em>,” Adora’s breath catches, “but I should – like I said, apologize first,” Catra tells her, amusement still dancing in her eyes. She reaches out to place her hands on Adora’s shoulders, gently pushing her to lean back against the back of the couch. She twists her mouth, considering, before she looks away and sighs. “Just let me get through it first, okay? Like when you told me everything?”</p><p>Adora nods, a little numbly. She knows – she <em>knows</em> what happened in the bathroom was a bit messed up, but she is more than willing to let it go if she and Catra get to be comfortable like this again. Five months ago, she is certain Catra would have been, too. She had managed to apologize on Friday, and Adora does not doubt her sincerity, but she still has never heard the other woman say the words “I’m sorry” in twenty years.</p><p>Finally seeming to have gathered herself, hands still placed lightly on Adora’s shoulders, Catra meets her gaze again. “I’m sorry,” she says. All the air promptly leaves Adora. “You deserve – so much better than that. I was hurting, and I wanted to hurt you back. I thought, I don’t know, I would show you what you were missing, or I would leave you high-and-dry, and maybe you would feel a little bit of what I had felt. I thought that would make me feel better. And I missed you, too, and needed to do something to convince myself that you at least had wanted me even if-“ Catra bites her lip and sighs, but she doesn't look away. Her eyes are pleading. “And then you said that thing about not being able to get off without me. It made me even madder because I thought you were acting like you needed me when clearly you <em>didn’t</em>-“</p><p>Catra cuts herself off, looking down. Adora hardly dares to breathe. She wants to reach out and tell Catra it is okay, to assure her, but she thinks it is just as important for Catra as it is for her that Catra finishes.</p><p>“-so I was cruel. I have done some shit, Adora, but the worst thing I have ever done is what I did to you,” she manages, meeting Adora’s gaze. She looks afraid of what she might see there. Adora just searches her face, because she <em>knew</em> all this, or most of it, deep down, at least after their talk. It still is rocking to hear Catra say it. “And it didn’t make me feel better. It made me feel like utter shit, to do that to you, so I got wasted so I would not have to feel it, and then you found me and- well, you know the rest.”</p><p>Adora swallows, thinking for a moment, before slowly reaching up to place her hands over Catra’s on her shoulders, mirroring what her partner had down the last time they were on the couch like this.</p><p>“I’m glad you did it,” she admits. Catra startles, staring at her, ears twitching. “It- it <em>hurt</em>, okay? To feel like I was nothing to you. But- that <em>is</em> how I made you feel. And it sucks that it took all that hurt between both of us, but if it wasn’t for that, you wouldn’t have- I would not have brought you home, and we wouldn’t have talked, and we would not be <em>here</em>,” she explains, squeezing Catra’s hand as she does.</p><p>Catra just keeps staring at her. “We could have just talked like fucking adults, Adora,” Catra argues, no heat, just confusion.</p><p>“We could have. We <em>should</em> have. We wouldn’t have,” Adora responds. Catra smiles, just a bit, at that. Adora is right, they both know it. Catra scoffs, looking away, but the smile keeps tugging at her lips. Her grip flexes on Adora’s shoulders just a bit, claws pricking lightly at her skin as she does so. It makes Adora’s breath catch. Catra’s eyes snap back to her at the sound.</p><p>“We could just spend time together. I would like that. It has been so long,” Catra says, slowly, searching her gaze.</p><p>“We could. I would like that, too,” Adora tells her, squeezing her hands again, waiting. Catra’s gaze drops down, trailing down to Adora’s neck where a few pin-prick bruises from Catra’s fangs remain. She flushes, tail swishing awkwardly from under the hem of the criminally small dress.</p><p>“But I want to – to treat you better. To show you how I really feel. And- maybe I miss you,” she says, softly, eyes darting between looking anywhere but at Adora and roaming over her face hopefully.</p><p>Adora drops her hands from Catra’s, finally able to put her hands on Catra’s waist in that little dress and <em>touch</em>.</p><p>“As long as you are sure you want to – I’ve missed you, too,” Adora promises her. A smile breaks out across Catra’s face and she leans in, Adora meeting her for a kiss instantly, much more passionate than their last two.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>No, I don’t know what driving like a nervous golden retriever means, but I know I’m right. Adora is among the leagues of gays who can’t drive. Catra just doesn’t have a car – she used Adora’s when she needed to.<br/>And for those curious, the five emojis that Adora sent to Catra were: *policeman* *firetruck* *ambulance* *double love heart* and *thumbs up* as a reference to that text conversation with Glimmer and Bow. The string that Adora sent to the group chat was mostly *!!* and *party popper*.<br/>Every chapter since the second I’ve been expecting to use that line from betty but Catra finally pulled her head out of her ass long enough for me to type it jfc. It is the law that I can’t write a chapter of this fic without referencing a lyric from a song.<br/>The next chapter is just going to be smut I’m gonna warn y’all. I tried to keep the smut in its own, skippable chapters for people who aren’t into that kind of thing.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Do-over</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Adora is top. Catra gives kisses.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is literally just smut and body worship, so if you aren’t into that feel free to skip to the next chapter for another Morning After.<br/>Adora is wearing short shorts, in case you forgot. Catra is wearing <a href="https://n7punk.tumblr.com/post/625073106917212160/chapter-four-of-catcher-is-going-up-today-for">this dress.</a><br/>Listen. It is not my fault Catra found that dress in Adora’s closet, none of us knew it was in there until it <i>wasn’t anymore</i> and it was driving Adora crazy. The memory of that dress came from somewhere deep in my subconscious and then I had to go hunt it down. I don’t know why writing works this way but it does. Catra and Adora just <i>do things</i> and I watch and ask them to keep it down while I’m trying to sleep.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Adora has been desperate to get her hands on – and under – this dress from the moment she laid her eyes on Catra in it. She has touched her, sure, skimmed her hands and rested them on her hips, but she did not get to <em>feel</em>. To squeeze at Catra’s waist with one hand, the other trailing up to palm her breasts through the tight material. She can already feel her perking up beneath her touch, whimpering lightly into the kiss as Adora pinches her through the dress, hands tightening where they are buried in Adora’s hair.</p><p>“Adora… What do you want?” Catra asks, pulling back from the kiss just enough for Adora to see how unfocused her eyes are already becoming. They have been reacquainting themselves with each other's kiss, but the question sends Adora's mind hurtling down dirty paths. Adora becomes suddenly <em>very</em> aware of the fact that Catra is settled in her lap, straddled across her essentially-bare legs. Adora can feel the fur running up the inside of Catra’s thighs as they spread over her, no fabric or underwear between her and Catra. Adora reaches one hand up to hook around the back of Catra’s neck, bringing her into another kiss, just a touch too hungry for how long they have been doing this. She drops her other hand to Catra’s thigh, stroking along it with inquisitive pressure.</p><p>“I know you said our bed, but…” she pauses to lick her lips, watching Catra draw a sharp breath before meeting her with that piercing, split gaze. Catra smirks at her, amusement dancing in her eyes even as her breath hitches.</p><p>“You actually want to have sex in the bathroom?” she teases, pressing in to nip at Adora’s lower lip. Adora groans under the brush of her teeth, abandoning conversation momentarily to claim another kiss, parting her lips to get a proper taste of her again.</p><p>“Want you here. Now. Riding my fingers in this <em>fucking dress</em>,” Adora practically growls, hands making their way back to Catra’s waist to <em>squeeze</em> again. She wants her naked – she also wants her to never take the damn thing off. Catra trembles at the words, squirming in Adora’s hands, but they have done this enough times for Adora to know what she wants and she flexes her arms, holding Catra in place as she tries to move. It makes Catra’s breath turn shuddering and she gives an eager nod, eyes lighting up and already leaning in for another kiss.</p><p>Catra implied she had some plans for Adora, but she also knows her, and Adora enjoys <em>touching</em> almost more than coming herself. Adora has been doing her best in the face of this tease of a piece of clothing, but she wants Catra – and she wants to make her <em>come apart</em> around her fingers.</p><p>Finally having permission, Adora slides a hand back down to Catra’s thigh, tightening the other on her waist to keep her still. Catra’s grip in her hair spasms again, and she tosses her head back a bit. Adora takes the invitation, mouthing along the column of her throat as she moves the hand on Catra’s thigh between them, stroking slowly up the inside of her leg. She pulls back just enough to watch how the anticipation makes Catra shiver, eyes going unfocused as she pants, biting down a groan that was clearly meant to be Adora’s name. Adora surges forward, pressing open-mouthed kisses against her throat again, drinking in the vibrations from the groan that spills forward as she finally strokes between her legs. Catra gasps, hips rolling down, and Adora smirks against her skin, shifting her hand back to keep the pressure light.</p><p>“Not yet, kitten,” she promises her, sucking a dark mark through the thin fur scattered across Catra’s collarbones. The pet name has always been contentious, but today it earns her a high whine, Catra forcing her hips to still. Satisfied she will not move, Adora begins stroking along her folds again, mapping the shape of her like it is the first time all over again. It almost feels like it is – except Adora knows Catra’s body still, better than she knows her own. She slides the hand from Catra’s waist around to her back, rubbing harshly with two fingers at the base of where her spine meets her tail. Catra <em>shouts</em> at that, surging forward with no destination in mind, just <em>more</em>.</p><p>“Knees under you, kitten,” Adora instructs, angling the pressure on her lower back in and up to direct her. Catra whines, biting her lip as the flush on her face blazes, but she lifts herself up off Adora’s lap on trembling legs, knees digging into the couch on either side of Adora’s thighs as she rises to kneel above her. Their chests come together as the new angle lets their bodies finally meet. It only raises Catra a few inches, merely requiring her to tilt her head down to kiss Adora, but it gives Adora room to slip her hand properly beneath her partner. It also means Adora is free to just touch her until she decides she wants Catra to sink down on her. “That’s my girl,” Adora praises, because Catra may tease Adora for her praise complex, but Catra also thrives on assurances.</p><p>Catra looks down at her, pupils dilated, wrapping her arms loosely around Adora’s neck as their bodies press together. She purrs, satisfied with the compliment, leaning down and titling her face up, slightly, requesting a kiss to be <em>given</em> rather than just taken. Adora happily obliges her, nipping at her lip to gain entrance as she readjusts the angle of her arm so she can resume the gentle explorations she had been enjoying before. Catra whines, but sometimes Adora just wants to <em>touch</em>, and maybe drive her girlfriend a bit crazy.</p><p>“Adora, please. I want to fuck you some time tonight,” Catra pants, nipping at Adora’s lip again because she <em>knows</em> that drives her crazy. Adora should resist – the words, the bite, all engineered to make her break and finally give her girlfriend what she wants. She <em>could</em> resist, but she also wants to see Catra taking pleasure from her touch. In the bathroom she had held back, biting her tongue and screwing up her face, not wanting to give Adora the satisfaction. Adora wants all of her now. She takes pity on her and moves her fingers to stroke along Catra’s entrance.</p><p>“Can you take two?” she asks, because now she has decided, she wants her <em>now</em>.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>,” is the desperate reply, and Adora does not doubt her. She can feel how wet Catra is, muscles twitching under her fingers as her body searches for <em>something</em> to satisfy its need.</p><p>Adora presses in, slow and careful, and Catra trembles but does not try to roll down with her, staying still like Adora wants. She huffs when Adora repeats the motion, rocking out and in with the same gentle press she always uses at first. In truth, as much as she wants to ensure Catra can take it after such a gap, she also feels nervous about what she is about to ask, even though she already <em>told</em> Catra what she wants and she had been obviously excited.</p><p>Adora reaches for Catra’s jaw with her free hand, capturing her chin between her thumb and forefinger, angling her down into another searing kiss as she begins to rock her hand in earnest, ramping up the intensity steadily. Catra whines above her, walls twitching down on her. She tightens her arms around the back of Adora’s neck, trying to eliminate any air between them. Adora licks into Catra’s mouth, carefully pressing her thumb against Catra’s clit on her next stroke and being rewarded with a sharp shout as Catra rocks down into the touch.</p><p>Adora pulls back from the kiss, humming considerately as she surveys Catra. She is flushed, arms and thighs trembling slightly and muscles quivering around Adora, lips bitten and breath coming in short pants. A few marks bloom on her neck and collarbones even beneath the dusting of fur there, sending a smug thrill through Adora. Her eyes meet Adora’s and Adora only finds pure desire there.</p><p>Adora crooks her fingers for a moment, enjoying the whine that earns her. “Ride them. I want to watch you enjoy yourself,” Adora instructs. She watches Catra’s entire body tremble as she lets her control go, body shifting down so she can fuck herself down on Adora’s fingers, keening.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Adora doesn’t stop, whispering praises and calling her <em>beautiful</em> and <em>hers</em>, until she has made Catra come twice, thighs trembling so badly she cannot even hold herself up anymore. Catra feels spent in a delicious way, but a thrumming energy keeps running through her every time Adora’s hands stroke lovingly along her body as she comes back to herself, collapsed against Adora’s chest. She feels loved, and wanted, and cared for, and she feels an eager <em>need</em> to make Adora feel the same.</p><p>“This- this dress really does it for you, doesn’t it?” she manages to pant against Adora’s shoulder as she tries to recover. An aftershock rocks through her and she bites down a whine.</p><p>“<em>You</em> do it for me, and you’re damn near naked in it,” Adora says, the heat of lust tinging her voice with such ferocity it makes Catra quiver. Catra does not have a response for that, not really, but she opens her mouth to say <em>something</em> and ends up releasing a small gasp as another aftershock hits. Her last, probably. She has already ridden this out far longer than normal, but Adora being so <em>demanding</em>, clearly taking such pleasure in getting her off – it had really done something to her after so long.</p><p>Catra manages to lift her head, intending to claim another kiss, but she gets distracted by Adora’s jawline. She ends up pressing kisses there, humming, mouthing just beneath her ear where she knows Adora likes it. Adora whines beneath her, arms wrapping around her waist and tugging her in as if it is possible for them to get any closer, at least with their clothes still on.</p><p>Actually, their clothes definitely should not still be on. Catra lingers on Adora’s jaw a moment longer, dragging her cheek along it and purring when Adora huffs fondly but doesn’t mention the scent-mark. It has been too long since Adora has been <em>hers</em>. She pulls back, surveying her partner to find Adora flushed, lips bitten, a bruise blooming on the curve of her jaw by her ear. The fang impressions still sit lovely against the pale skin of her neck. Adora’s eyes are blown out, her breathing uneven, and she tracks Catra’s movements like if she loses sight of her she will lose something precious.</p><p>“You ready for our bed, now?” Catra asks. When she said <em>our</em> earlier she could not miss Adora’s reaction, and she is rewarded with the sharp intake of breath again and an eager nod. She smiles - content, happy, and excited - as she slips out of Adora’s lap. Adora has the nerve to look disappointed by it, as if they could move without standing and separating. Well, they could if-</p><p>“You wanted to carry me,” Catra realizes, suddenly, stilling with one foot only halfway to the floor, pushing off the couch with one arm. Adora flushes, but she maintains eye contact and nods. A purr rolls from <em>somewhere</em>, source unknown, and Catra slowly sinks back down into Adora’s lap. The eagerness that lights up her face as her hands rise to wrap around Catra makes her let out a startled breath, adjacent to both a laugh and a gasp. “Okay, princess, take care of me,” Catra challenges, as if Adora hasn’t been doing that for the last- however long it has been. The sun hasn’t set yet and that is about all she knows. Nothing had really mattered but Adora.</p><p>Adora grips her with one hand on her thigh and another on her ass, squeezing unnecessarily for just a moment before she lifts her. Catra wraps her legs around Adora’s waist, draping her arms over her shoulders, chin resting there as well as she happily lets herself be carried to the bedroom. She hums appreciatively at the flex of Adora’s muscles beneath her, on full display as Adora brings her to their bed and lays her back slowly, carefully. It makes Catra’s heart feel like it is spasming. Adora has already cared for her so much, she just wants to be able to do the same, now.</p><p>Catra reaches out, grabbing Adora’s shoulder and tugging insistently. Adora takes the hint, smiling a dopey, satisfied grin as she joins her on the bed, leg raising to straddle Catra. She drops her hands to Catra’s shoulders before she sweeps them down, squeezing and feeling along the length of her. It feels nice but- Catra has plans. Sitting up, she meets Adora for a kiss, finding Adora’s wandering hands with her own and moving them to her back. “Undress me,” she requests before pressing in for another kiss, making sure to catch Adora’s lower lip with one of her fangs as she nips at her.</p><p>Adora lets out a short moan into the kiss, hands moving to find the zipper and peel open the back of Catra’s outfit. Once she feels the dress being peeled down to her hips, Catra lays back. She arches her hips off the bed, watching Adora’s eyes dilate at the sight as she pulls the dress all the way down her thighs, having to shift aside to free Catra’s legs. Catra waits until the dress has been flung away and then takes advantage of Adora being half-way shifted to the side, pressing forward to flip them so Adora falls back against the sheets. Adora’s breath stutters for a moment, staring up at Catra with wide eyes. Catra is not looking at her face, however. No, she is too focused on the way Adora’s chest bounces in this top, bra straining and <em>failing</em>, with each heavy breath.</p><p>“I want to touch you. Help me get this off, won’t you?” she purrs, tugging at the shirt hem and looking up to watch the flood of desire in Adora’s eyes as she realizes she has been given a command. Adora nods, quick and eager, rising to sit up and pull the top over her head with one quick motion. Catra already has her hands raised, hooking her fingers under the band of Adora’s bra before her arms have even fallen from removing the top. She glances up at Adora, making eye contact to ask silent permission, and then tugs the offending fabric up and away once it is given. The bra joins the shirt, and the dress, somewhere indistinctly <em>not here</em>. Catra reaches her hand out, placing it on Adora’s shoulder and pushing her lightly so she falls back against the sheets. She settles straddled across Adora’s hips, just <em>enjoying </em>for a moment.</p><p>Adora’s hair spills out over the pillows, her eyes shining brightly as her own gaze sweeps over Catra’s naked body. She settles her hands on Catra’s thighs, thumbs rubbing small circles as she waits for Catra to have her fill of drinking her in. Catra finds herself a little entranced by Adora’s tits, <em>bouncing</em> just a little with every ragged breath, flushed and standing at attention. Adora is watching her look, she knows, so she is not even surprised when Adora flexes her abs under her, giving her a <em>fantastic</em> view, but also letting her feel the shift of strong muscle beneath her. She purrs, wordless praise, and leans forward, draping herself across Adora’s front and reveling in the feeling of their naked bodies together again. Well, almost naked.</p><p>Growling, Catra glances down to Adora’s hips, narrowing her eyes at the shorts there keeping her from enjoying the only thing she has wanted for the last five fucking months.</p><p>“Strip,” she orders, rolling off Adora to lay on her side, watching as that sends a shiver through her partner. Adora raises her hands, undoing the fly and hooking her thumbs into the waistband to pull down the shorts. Catra <em>almost</em> admonishes her for leaving her underwear on before she catches sight of it. White lace, barely even the tease of covering her, and Catra’s eyes snap up to find Adora’s face. Her blush is blazing, lower lip caught between her teeth as she sits up a bit to free her shorts from around her ankles.</p><p>“I didn’t want to- presume or anything,” she starts, embarrassment evident, and Catra’s tail hits the bed with a <em>thwack</em> at the confirmation that Adora had dressed this way <em>in case</em>. For <em>her</em>. Briefly, her memory flashes back to the party, when she had been worried that Adora had shown up in barely any clothing to impress somebody else. But no, Adora was just like that, with her obliviousness and her <em>abs</em>. If she wanted to impress, she would have picked some of her nonathletic clothing – <em>white lace</em> – which usually has the unfortunate side effect of covering her up more. Not today.</p><p>“Adora,” Catra <em>growls</em>. She doesn’t miss the shiver as Adora lays back again, unsure if she should fulfill Catra’s order fully or leave the illusion of clothing on. Catra can see her dark curls, the same colour as her bold brows, beneath the fabric - she can even tell the lace is already stained darker between her legs. “Leave them on. For now,” she commands, rolling back on top of Adora. Her blush is still blazing, but lust is starting to haze her vision again, apparently satisfied she didn’t go too far. As if Catra could ever be upset about <em>this</em>.</p><p>Catra frames Adora’s jaw, kissing her slowly, deeply, as she drapes across her again. She snakes her tail around Adora’s thigh, pleased with the small squeak that earns her. Catra pulls back, looking down at Adora and drinking in the way her girlfriend looks hopelessly-turned on, splayed out beneath her.</p><p>“I want to touch you. It’s been so long, I just want to appreciate you for a while,” she tells her, eyes searching her face for confirmation. Adora smiles, easy and relaxed, nodding as she settles back into the sheets. Catra hums appreciatively as she lets her hands slide down from Adora’s jaw to explore.</p><p>She sets to work spreading open-mouthed kisses across her partner's defined shoulders, gently laving on a few spots until soft marks begin to bloom. Adora agreed, but Catra thinks, distantly, that she does not know what she actually agreed <em>to</em>. Catra <em>missed</em> her, missed the feeling of her body against her, her skin beneath her hands, the shift of her muscles as she lets out happy, relaxed sighs. Adora drinks in the attention, hands tightening on Catra’s thighs occasionally, as Catra lets her hands and mouth roam - squeezing, pinching, and skating featherlight down Adora’s arms, back up to her shoulders, down to her chest. She trails her claws along the lines of Adora’s muscles just to watch her shiver. Catra goes achingly slow, determined to feel every inch of Adora’s skin as she goes, lavishing attention with a gentle touch and kiss. She wants to show Adora her true intentions. She may struggle to say them - there may be a word she has thought for years but never spoken - but she can <em>show</em> Adora how loved she is.</p><p>Adora alternates between being satisfied to lay back and let the attention wash over her and sending Catra hopeful, pleading looks as she bites down on her lip and tries – unsuccessfully – to swallow high whines. It only makes Catra slow down more until she settles back down. When she is satisfied Adora will lay back and take her love, she resumes until Adora is shifting restlessly again. She presses kisses down the lengths of Adora’s arms, reveling in the flex of muscles beneath her skin that she knows is wholly unnecessary, but they both enjoy regardless. Catra loves to soak in just how <em>strong</em> her girlfriend is and Adora is a terminal show-off. She kisses all the way down to Adora’s wrist, brushing her lips against each knuckle, featherlight. Adora huffs, frustrated and excited. Her eyes are bright with want and enjoyment, the smell of arousal building in the room.</p><p>This kind of slow worship is not something they have done often, and certainly less so with Adora on the receiving end. Catra thinks Adora’s expression is bordering on <em>guilty</em> as she lets it wash over her, but she does not tell Catra to stop or even <em>ask</em> her to move faster. Catra works her hands down to Adora’s ribcage, pressing kisses back up along her shoulders and down her sternum. Adora whines, legs shifting beneath her, sending an electrifying thrill up Catra’s spine at the rush of <em>contact</em>. She presses kisses along the red impressions across Adora’s ribs from her bra band, hands kneading at Adora’s sides, stomach, <em>abs</em> and purring at the flex of muscles beneath her. When Catra finally reaches her abs with her mouth, she lets the kisses turn sloppy, tongue flicking out to lap at her with the rough flat of it. Adora moans, openly and loudly, head throwing back a bit.</p><p>“Catra…” she sighs, and though no real words are spoken, it is finally a request. Catra can smell how worked up she is, acutely aware of the wet patch where the ghost of underwear clings to her, but she is not done, not quite yet.</p><p>“I’ll take care of you, princess. Let me <em>enjoy you</em> first,” Catra promises, voice soft as her hands sweep right past Adora’s underwear to squeeze at muscular thighs. Adora keens, needy and frustrated, burying her hands in Catra’s mane and <em>clutching</em>. It is not often that Adora even attempts to touch her hair like this, acutely aware of how particular Catra is about it, and how sensitive her scalp and ears can be. Either five months have done more damage than she anticipated – which she highly doubts, given the attention Adora had lavished on her lower back earlier – or Adora is starting to lose control.</p><p>Catra purrs, butting her head back into the touch briefly before setting about sucking a dark mark into the ridge of Adora’s hip, drawing it out by insisting on using slow, gentle pressure. The grip in her hair spasms, but Adora does not let go, choosing instead to wrap her fingers more thoroughly around the curls and <em>tug</em>, as if being a brat will get her what she wants. No, that is firmly Catra’s territory.</p><p>Catra growls, low and dangerous, and Adora huffs but loosens her grip, forcing her body to relax beneath her again. Catra gives a small rumble in praise, glancing up to see the way it makes a small, blissful smile tug on Adora’s mouth.</p><p>“You’re being so good for me,” she praises, soaking in the way Adora’s stomach jumps under her mouth as she gasps at the praise.</p><p>“I want to be good for you, Catra, <em>please</em>,” Adora begs, and it is finally enough. Catra trails the hands that had been kneading at her thighs back up, reveling in the desperate whine Adora releases when she realizes that Catra’s fingers have finally tucked under the lacy waistband on her underwear. Catra continues to lave her tongue and kisses down Adora’s abs as she shifts her body back a bit to finally pull Adora’s underwear down her thighs and off. Adora releases a sigh, content and relieved as Catra strokes one hand along the length of her, taking deep satisfaction in finding how <em>soaked</em> she is.</p><p>Her hand continues to explore Adora, circling carefully at her clit to avoid overstimulating her after so much teasing. She needs to touch her - to be sure she is ready before her rough tongue meets her – but she does not want to overwhelm her, or finish this before it really <em>starts</em>. Her kisses have just worked down to brush above Adora’s curls, the scent of her so strong now her mouth is beginning to water, when she feels Adora’s muscles suddenly tense worryingly underneath her. Uncertain, she ceases her movements, pulling her hand away as she leans back from the wet trail she was leaving down Adora’s skin.</p><p>“Adora?” she questions, finding her girlfriend biting her lip, suddenly anxious. Adora carefully untangles a hand from Catra’s hair, propping herself up on her elbow to look down at Catra nervously.</p><p>“I, um, I just realized what you were going to do, and it’s not that I don’t want you to, because I <em>really, really</em> do-“ Adora starts, eyes darting nervously from Catra’s gaze to down to where she has been working her way for what feels like forever now.</p><p>“Adora,” Catra cuts in, raising an eyebrow at her. Her hand has fallen to rest on Adora’s thigh, and she grips it lightly, grounding Adora and halting her rambling. Adora flushes, looking away guiltily. “Do you want to stop?” she asks, feeling a nervous energy thrumming in her chest. She <em>thought</em> Adora was enjoying herself, but maybe this is just a line she is not quite ready to cross again yet. Catra struggles to keep her expression clear and breathing regular as she waits. As long as she did not go too far, it will be okay. As long as Adora stopped her in time, because she was clearly failing to read her signals.</p><p>“No! I- definitely not. It’s just- it’s the first time after, and I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to because you feel like you have to <em>make up</em> for what happened in the bathroom or-“ Adora starts to ramble.</p><p>Catra is torn between rolling her eyes, pinning Adora’s hips to the mattress, and kissing her partner until she is totally breathless. Of <em>course</em> she is worried about Catra right now. Of course she is concerned about pressuring her, when Catra was <em>riding her fingers</em> earlier. But that, despite how much Adora enjoyed it too, got Catra off. This is for Adora, and like <em>always</em>, she struggles to want enjoyment for herself.</p><p>“Adora,” Catra cuts in. Adora stops mid-sentence, biting her lip and looking down at Catra nervously, eyes searching. Catra feels her lip curl upwards. “You know how I was making an utter fool of myself trying to smell you when I was drunk?” Catra asks.</p><p>“Yeah?” Adora asks, bewildered.</p><p>“<em>That’s what you taste like</em>,” Catra tells her. She watches Adora’s brain come to a complete halt, face flushing red while she processes that information. “Now, can I take care of you?” Adora nods, hurriedly, still flushed all the way down her chest as she falls back against the sheets. Catra lets an amused rumble roll through her as she leans down to press a kiss to her inner thigh before finally, finally getting to put her mouth on her lover.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Adora traces lazy circles into the fur on Catra’s shoulders, her partner’s purr rumbling through her as their entire bodies press together, wrapped in each other’s embrace in the bed that has been <em>hers</em> rather than <em>theirs</em> for too long. The moment feels almost like a ceasefire, the knowledge that in the morning they will have to split ways to go to their separate teams weighing heavily on Adora, but she revels in the feeling of Catra here against her once more.</p><p>Warmth bursts in her chest, a flush spilling down her face as she remembers the adoring attention Catra had soaked her in. Now, Catra rumbles happily in her arms, tail lazily flicking against their tangled legs. It is still early evening, the sunset just visible through the gap in the living room curtains out their open bedroom door. They have plenty of time to relearn each other, not just physically, but emotionally and mentally as well. Adora takes comfort in that knowledge as she draws Catra just a bit closer, content to soak in the afterglow as long as the golden light continues to fill the room.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*lawyer voice* The law clearly states it isn’t porn if you don’t show the moment of orgasm.<br/>Me in every damn chapter of this fic so far: have I mentioned that Catra does not own underwear. It just seems unnecessary with fur?? Maybe I’m off-base. I’m sticking with it though. I’m also adamant that Adora only wears sports bras and Catra wears nothing unless its bralettes as shirts. As an ex-member of the melon squad and current ambassador for the itty bitty titty committee, I’m qualified on all bra-related matters.<br/>This one ummm really got away from me? Like Catra just lost her damn mind and it became 7 pages I’m sorry. Is it revealing far too much?? Probably but also I needed to make up for the bathroom and write some healthy smut.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Lovers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"Shit, Adora, I can’t believe I did that,” Catra repeats, voice shell-shocked.</p><p>“Proud of you,” Adora hums, pressing a kiss to Catra’s jaw.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yes, I know I have been calling her Coach Weaver the whole fic but I decided from the very beginning her legal first name would be Shadow and her legal last name would be Weaver. They’re both not that wild of names on their own it’s just together that it’s fucking ridiculous. Everyone calls her Coach Weaver because if you don’t she starts screaming about respect – abusive parents <i>love</i> that word.<br/><a href="https://n7punk.tumblr.com/post/625355705547882496/chapter-7-of-catcher-is-going-up-today-a-few">A summary of net-ball</a>, as a fictional sport. This whole fic started as a dream, so the only thing I knew about the sport was it was battle-like and duo based – then it blossomed into this.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Catra is perfectly content just to sit at her old spot at the breakfast table, watching Adora shuffle around the kitchen as she makes tea in between flipping pancakes. She thought it would be harder, coming back here, talking with Adora, falling back into their old routine – but the morning has been one of disgusting domesticity. Between waking up in Adora’s arms, showering together again for the first time in months – and Catra is <em>so glad</em> she brought all her mane supplies with her, because she would still be working on tangles otherwise – and the casual banter that has begun to just <em>flow</em> between them again, it all has felt natural. Whenever they get within touching radius of each other they find their hands trailing over each other, no sexual intention, just the luxury of enjoying the touch of someone so known, so loved, and so missed. They luxuriate in it, soaking up each other’s presence. Adora does not have practice for another hour anyway, and Catra was always planning on being fashionably late to drills.</p><p>Once the pancakes are finally ready, Catra is so busy curling her nose in disgust at the maple syrup Adora slathers hers in – she has had it in her fur once, and once was enough, thank you – that it takes her several minutes to realize Adora has been staring at her ever since she sat down, an unsure edge in her gaze. Catra bites down on the instinct that says <em>she’s changed her mind</em> – she is not sure what it would be <em>about</em> - and tries to send her a questioning look. She thinks it ends up more wide-eyed and nervous than anything else, but this morning has felt so peaceful it feels frighteningly fragile.</p><p>Adora sighs, putting down her fork. “Can I ask you about something? That you said last night?” Adora asks. Catra feels herself relaxing a bit – if it is limited to last night, it can’t be bad, not really. She only said true things last night, even if it was the hardest thing she has ever done in her damn life. Catra nods, and Adora fidgets with her tea mug for a moment before making eye contact again. “You said you might not play this season,” she says. Catra pauses, ear flicking as she thinks. She vaguely remembers saying something like that, in the nervous rambling around moving back in.</p><p>She sighs, turning to look out the balcony doors. The morning sunshine pours into the room, so different from the dingy hole-in-the-wall she has been staying at with Scorpia. “What do you want me to do, Adora? You were right – I can’t stay with the Horde. It has only gotten <em>worse</em> since you left,” she tells her, catches a flinch out of the corner of her eye. Catra turns back to her, shaking her head. “Not as bad as it was for us two as Shadow’s kids. Just the overall team conditions, I mean. Shadow has been rampaging for months. Regardless, I… I want to come home to you. The fraternization policy would keep us apart. I can’t- I can’t be without you again,” Catra admits, biting her lip. She watches the relief wash over Adora’s face and drinks it in as readily as the tea, still curling steam in the air where it sits on the table between them.</p><p>“But- what about signing to another team?” Adora asks, nervously, fidgeting with her mug again.</p><p>Catra sighs, fixing her eyes on her plate. “Who is going to pick up a single player mid-season? And maybe… Maybe I can’t feel a damn thing when I’m out there without you,” she admits, quietly. She wants to see Adora’s face – wants to see surprise and flattery and love there – but she is terrified of what she would actually find. Adora has been doing <em>fine</em> without her, she has to have been, but the game that used to offer Catra such a high just feels hollow to her now.</p><p>Adora stands. Catra winces at the sound of the chair scraping on the shitty laminate tile. She keeps her gaze fixed down, ears swiveling to follow Adora’s movement as she walks around the table, crouching next to Catra and reaching for her hands. Catra watches Adora gather her hands, pulling them close to tuck them against her own chest, looking up at her hopefully.</p><p>“Bright Moon always wanted to sign us both. It could be us again,” Adora says, barely above a whisper, breathless and <em>hopeful</em>. Adora does not ask her outright, and Catra does not blame her; for five months, when Adora asked her to join Bright Moon, Catra would lash out, hissing she did not want to follow in Adora’s shadow. None of it was true, not really. She never wants to be treated like the scapegoat she always was for the Horde, anything going wrong <em>her fault</em> for not helping Adora make the right call - but Adora had never had any part in that. Her fear of inadequacy is always going to follow her, by Adora’s side or not.</p><p>“I- thought you would find someone better, after you left. I didn’t want to hold you back. Not- not just on the court,” she says. She does not know if it is an explanation for then, or an excuse for now, but it is all she can think. All she <em>has</em> thought, for the last five months. “I’d- I’d rather lose the sport than lose you again,” she whispers. She did not know it was true until she said it, but the conviction of it rocks her. She would rather let this part of herself go than force herself to try and post stats without Adora. She would rather not be involved in the sport at all than have to pretend seeing someone else at Adora’s side did not <em>hurt</em>.</p><p>Adora startles, staring at her with open confusion. “Catra, I need you. I <em>want</em> you. As my partner, and as my girlfriend. As- <em>fuck it</em>, as my lover. My <em>life</em> partner. I just need you,” Adora tells her, voice rising with her conviction. “Stay with me, please.”</p><p>Catra feels like she can’t <em>breathe</em>, the word hanging in the air between them. She struggles to swallow around the lump in her throat. Adora takes her silence for hesitation, she can tell. An edge of nerves creeps into her face and she bites her lip, looking down at their interlinked hands.</p><p>“Catra, I want you here. There <em>isn’t</em> someone better. I’m- I’m <em>okay</em> without you but I’m not <em>myself</em>. I feel blind, running around with half my senses cut off. I keep looking to my left and expecting to see you, to read the entire situation off you and for us to just <em>know</em> what to do. Please, be my partner again,” she pleads, whisper wavering in the thin morning air.</p><p>Catra feels like she can’t breathe. Five months. <em>Five fucking months</em>.</p><p>Catra breaks. She flings herself forward into Adora’s arms. They are holding each other, and then they are crying, and then they are kissing, and all Catra can think is about how Adora was the first person on Earth to her, and she wants her to be the last one, too.</p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Catra has to reheat the pancakes in the microwave while Adora hastily dresses for practice. They end up across from each other at the table again, eating as Adora watches the clock to make sure she gets out the door in time.</p><p>They always sat across from each other. It started when they were kids and that was just how Coach Weaver sat them, trying to create distance where none could be found. Once they set the apartment up, it may have just been habit, but Adora has been glad for it many times for how it allows her to just drink Catra in. Now, she is grateful for it because she can see Catra holding herself back, working herself up, fighting a silent battle in her head. Every time they make eye contact, she sends her an encouraging smile.</p><p><em>I’m ready, whenever you are</em>. Catra sighs, meeting her eyes again, before she sips her tea. She sets it back on the table with an air of finality.</p><p>“Who is your partner right now?” she asks. She looks like she is trying to maintain a brave face – she sounds <em>terrified</em>. Adora blinks back at her. It has never occurred to her, not once in this whole thing, that Catra does not know. Simply because of the uncertainty the last few months, Adora still hoping to bring Catra in with her, Bright Moon has kept who her partner is out of public record. She forgot that also extended to Catra’s knowledge, as well.</p><p>“Uh, a satyr named Swiftie. He’s fun, total weirdo, but he is very acrobatic. He was the only one I could work with. The closest any of them came to being able to shoehorn into your style,” she tells her. She doesn’t know how to say any of this right. She is terrified of making it seem like she had wanted to replace Catra – but the fact is she had <em>had to</em>. She does not want to keep doing it, not now they might have a choice. Catra did not say outright she would sign with Bright Moon – they were a little busy doing other things - but she clearly <em>wants</em> to be with her again. Adora’s near-love confession has clearly affected her, leaving Adora feeling like she is floating at the acceptance and reciprocation of <em>that</em>.</p><p>She is not prepared for the way Catra’s face scrunches in confusion. “Who the fuck is Swiftie? That name is not even on the Bright Moon roll,” Catra tells her.</p><p>“You know the Bright Moon roll?” Adora asks, a little breathless, because <em>wow</em>. Even when she was pissed off and betrayed, Catra was keeping up with her. Not that Adora had not been doing the same, but Catra was the one who broke up with her. She thought Catra would have been doing everything she could those five months to not think about Adora at all.</p><p>Catra flushes, ears dropping as she realizes what she said. Her gaze darts out to the balcony, fixing on the potted plants there to avoid looking at Adora. “… I’ll tell you later?” she tries, and <em>oh</em> does that make Adora want to know more, because that means it was more than just a google search about her new team. That means there is a <em>story</em>.</p><p>Adora lets it go, for the moment. She puts it away in the file of conversations they need to have, somewhere behind <em>moving in slowly</em> in priority.</p><p>“He won’t be on the roll until the season starts,” Adora explains, shrugging. Catra stills. Adora spends a terrifying moment watching all of Catra’s fur rise, claws snapping out and ears puffing up in anger as she turns to look at her again in shock.</p><p>“They’re <em>saddling you</em> with a <em>rookie</em>?” she demands, voice between a hiss and a screech. The neighbours probably hear it.</p><p>Adora feels a sensation that could very well be a heart attack, as relief and the feeling of being loved wash through her at the same time as she realizes that, though that could have been for worse reasons, she needs to calm Catra before she fully sets off. Her body is instinctually warning her there is a predator in the room about to go on the hunt.</p><p>“It’s not like that- I told you, his style is the only-“ she doesn’t get to finish the sentence. She watches, a bit shell-shocked, as Catra leaps from the table and runs to the bedroom on all fours, the fur along the ridge of her back still raised.</p><p>“Catra?” she calls out, cautiously, as she stands and makes her way to the bedroom. She peers in the doorway to see Catra standing over the bed, trying to type furiously on her charging phone while trying to navigate the claws she cannot seem to retract.</p><p>Adora has no fucking clue what is going on. “Catra?” she calls again, taking the chance on stepping inside the room. Catra does not even flick an ear in her direction to acknowledge her. Most of her fur is starting to relax, no longer standing on end, but her tail is still bushy and lashing behind her as she types furiously on her phone. Adora edges towards her, reaching out slowly to place her hands on her shoulders from behind. Catra does not move under her touch, still staring at her phone screen. Adora looks over her shoulder and feels the air leave her lungs.</p><p>Catra’s tail stops lashing suddenly. She stills completely as she stares down at the <em>sent</em> notification on her screen.</p><p>“Shit,” she says, and Adora cannot help but laugh, hands sliding down her girlfriend’s arms to wrap them around her waist. She pulls Catra back against her chest, snuggling into her back as she stares down at the email inbox. “Shit, Adora, I can’t believe I did that,” Catra repeats, voice shell-shocked.</p><p>“Proud of you,” Adora hums, pressing a kiss to Catra’s jaw. Catra startles to look up at her, face the picture of realization and regret.</p><p>“Adora, the heading just says ‘<em>She deserves better’</em>. The body says ‘<em>This message has been left intentionally blank’</em>,” Catra says, voice still rocking with realization, as if that will convince Adora to change her mind. Adora shrugs, running her hands up and down Catra’s arms, ruffling her fur as she goes.</p><p>“The PDF says all it needs to. If you want to sign, you needed to send your stats over sometime anyway,” Adora tells her, amused. Catra still looks worried. Adora sighs, reaching a hand up to stroke along Catra’s jaw, scratching just underneath it in the way that never fails to elicit a purr. It does this time, too – if a very faint one. Catra stares at her with wide eyes.</p><p>“I told you, they wanted to sign us both. Now they know you are interested too. They will take you mid-season, Catra, I’m sure. We could- we would have to play separate, the first three weeks, but then we could come back. We could <em>dominate</em> together, Catra,” Adora assures her, promises her, begs. It is all she has wanted, to have Catra by her side in this brilliant and brave new world she has found since leaving the grueling conditions of the Horde. Net-ball has managed to be fun on team Bright Moon even without Catra by her side – but it will never be what it <em>could</em> be with Catra there.</p><p>
  
</p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Catra kicks around their apartment for an extra ten minutes after Adora leaves, staring at her email and drafting an exceedingly long addition to her earlier message. Eventually she realizes she is not going to make any progress just staring at it and gets ready for drills. She changes into some of the clothes she brought back with her and walks to the drug store down the street while she waits for her rideshare.</p><p>She buys a cheap, floral body spray and wrinkles her nose in disgust as she sprays it in the air around herself, not willing to spray it on her fur directly. She hates chemical perfumes like this, but Rogelio has a decent enough nose she worries about him picking up Adora’s familiar scent if she doesn’t cover it up. With the cloying perfume laced over it, even just sprayed in her general area, she knows he will not be able to detect it. It gags at her throat, but she swallows it down as she takes her ride away from downtown, staring at her email inbox the whole way.</p><p>She ends up over two hours late to drills, which is not even her worst time to date, strolling into the court with her backpack thrown over her shoulder, nose still twitching a bit. She is greeted by a grating wolf whistle.</p><p>“I’m sorry!” are the first words out of Scorpia’s mouth before the team <em>descends</em> on her.</p><p>“Fucking ditching us for some girl, huh, Catra?” Lonnie demands. She sounds torn between pissed and proud. Catra feels all her fur bristle. Only three people look deterred – Lonnie is not among them.</p><p>“I’ve been later for worse reasons,” Catra grinds out, glaring at Scorpia as her tail lashes behind her. She becomes acutely aware of the marks Adora had left scattered across her chest, only partially obscured by her clothing. She feels panicky, defensive. Any other situation and she would be <em>bragging</em> about the girl she has at home, but this is precarious.</p><p>“You have also missed practice entirely for this reason. This is an improvement!” Entrapta helpfully supplies. Her partner Emily puts a hand on her shoulder and shakes her head, looking at Catra with pity. Whatever, like she did not catch them going at it in Entrapta’s fancy car last week.</p><p>“I’m sorry!” Scorpia repeats, shrinking down as if there is any obstacle in the room that could hide her hulking mass. “I didn’t realize it was a secret! I didn’t realize it was going to be a big deal!” she tries to explain away. In her defense, Catra has never been secretive about having a sex life – Lonnie has all but <em>seen</em> Catra and Adora having sex in the showers before – but Catra guards the details of what happens in said life close. If it wasn’t Adora, if this wasn’t the Horde, she wouldn’t <em>care</em>.</p><p>“You’re stringing us out to go play dress-up, though?” Lonnie sounds smug, taunting her with those <em>details </em>she knows Catra actually cares about.</p><p>Catra spins on her heal, gesturing violently at Scorpia. “You told them about the dress?” she hisses, torn between embarrassment and relief. As much as she wants to keep the words <em>dress</em> and <em>Catra</em> in two separate hemispheres, the dress is her safety net – she can’t be sleeping with Adora if the girl she is sleeping with owns <em>that</em>. It is so far from her style it is laughable.</p><p> Scorpia has the nerve to look ashamed.</p><p>“I mean, I really wouldn’t call it a dress? More like a leather illusion constructed around the concept of decency? But they asked me how I knew and- Catra, I’m sorry,” Scorpia tries.</p><p>“Scorpia? Not helping. You’re <em>oversharing</em>,” Catra tells her, managing to maintain a deadly calm in her voice as she realizes she can see Coach Weaver lurking near the edge of the court, listening to every word.</p><p>Catra tries, she really does, to calm herself. She tries to take a deep breath and release it out her nose, along with all the bullshit she has breathed in over the last few minutes.</p><p>“As funny as you in <em>that</em> is, I’ll have your tail if you pull a fucking <em>Adora</em> on us.”</p><p>The breath comes out as a hiss, Catra’s claws snapping out, unbidden. She opens her eyes to fix a glare on each and every one of her teammates. A considerably larger number of them look cowed, this time.</p><p>“<em>Don’t</em> talk about her,” <em>like that</em>, she doesn’t finish. It takes everything in her to cut herself off. She hopes it just reads as the bitter betrayal she has been grappling with the last few months. It feels like watching a movie, being here and playing this role that was <em>always</em> acting, even when she was trying to convince herself it was her real feelings. It feels unnatural, pulling back on this skin and finding it <em>familiar</em> after the warm glow of the morning together. But if she wants to feel that glow again any time soon, she has to act the part. “My rebound is not any of your fucking business. Get in formation,” she orders, voice like gravel from her growl.</p><p>“You <em>make</em> it our business when you don’t show up. At least Adora <em>gave</em> a shit while she was here,” Lonnie accuses, jabbing a finger in her direction, suddenly settling on <em>anger</em> over the smug contempt she has been reveling in. Catra’s blood boils. She whips away from Scorpia, stalking up to Lonnie as her claws flex, completely out of her control.</p><p>“Are you fucking kidding me?” she practically screams, baring her fangs as she gets right up in Lonnie’s face. The role is taking over, except it isn’t, because the next words she speaks are the pure truth. “I gave everything for this fucking team. I gave up the only thing I <em>love</em> in this damn <em>world</em> for this team!” she roars.</p><p>Then she realizes what she said. She freezes, staring at Lonnie with wide eyes. Lonnie, for her part, looks just as shocked. Catra does the only thing she can think to: she runs.</p><p>As she flees the room, chest pounding and lungs tight, she hears voices calling after her, some soft and some harsh. It doesn’t matter, the only one she hears is Coach Weaver’s.</p><p>“<em>Catra</em>,” a hissed command, tinging with dangerous promise. Catra feels all the fur on her back stand on end as she flees.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Adora has bounced somewhere past cloud nine and landed near heaven’s nineteenth landing. She feels utter contentment, the warm glow of the last day with Catra permeating every second of her day.</p><p>While she and Catra had eaten dinner the night before, Adora had sent a message to Glimmer and Bow telling them Catra was staying the night and not to expect to hear anything from her until practice the next day. When she gets there, acutely aware of the fresh bruise on her jaw and the absolute glow she carries in her heart, Glimmer and Bow descend on her with glee.</p><p>“It went well, then?” Glimmer teases, knocking their shoulders together as she eyes Adora’s jaw. Adora flushes, rubbing a hand at the back of her neck, but she cannot hide the eager nod.</p><p>“She had to go back, drills or something, but it was just so <em>good</em> to be with her again. To fall asleep and wake up together,” Adora tells them, eager gossip flowing between them as they prepare for practice. “She- she can’t move back in, right away. Coach Weaver <em>ordered</em> her to live with Scorpia so they can <em>bond</em>,” Adora explains, trying and utterly failing to keep the resentment out of her voice. It is definitely directed at both of the women, but she likes to think she is a big enough person to be directing it mostly at her former foster parent.</p><p>Bow and Glimmer exchange a look Adora knows well – the <em>your life is so fucked up, I’m sorry</em> one that had been a near constant in the early days. She sighs, tossing her bag on the ground as she sets into doing her stretches. “It’s fine, we’ll make it work. She wants to come back. She was- she was so sweet, I can’t even explain it. Um, probably shouldn’t, also,” Adora coughs. Glimmer fixes her with a look and Adora feels a blush blaze on her face. She scrambles to find something else to say. “She apologized again, for the bathroom and everything. I don’t know, I just feel like even if we can’t play together again for a while, we <em>talked</em> about it, and we’ll find a way.”</p><p>“That’s really great, Adora!” Bow tells her, brightly. Genuinely happy for her, the way Bow always is.</p><p>“Yeah, the bathroom was fucked up. She <em>needed</em> to apologize for that, or I would have kicked her ass once you started bringing her around,” Glimmer adds, caring in her own special way. Adora laughs, amused and nervous.</p><p>“Please don’t? I kind of love her a lot and- oh,” Adora freezes, mid-stretch, face <em>burning</em>. Bow and Glimmer exchange a confused look.</p><p>“What, you sore or something? It really got that exciting?” Glimmer asks, not <em>realizing</em>. Adora stares at her, blinking slowly. She watches the realization dawn on Bow’s face.</p><p>“Glimmer,” he says softly, smiling like he is watching the best show on Earth, hearts practically floating over his head, “she <em>loves</em> her.”</p><p>“Yeah? We already knew that,” Glimmer says, confused, turning back to Adora before she catches her absolutely frozen expression. Her confusion softens to patient understanding, with an edge of exasperation. “Oh, Adora, really? You didn’t know?”</p><p>Adora <em>squeaks</em>. “I did! I have! I just- I’ve never <em>said</em> it. Out loud. Before,” she stammers out, finding she is finally able to move again in order to turn away and look anywhere but at her friends.</p><p>“Okay, I finally get what you meant when you said you were bad at this,” Bow sighs, conceding. Adora realizes that Glimmer’s mom –<em> her boss</em> - is standing about seven feet away from them and flushes even darker, if possible.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Catra is not thinking clearly. Distantly, she remembers that being the start of this whole mess – Adora getting emotional, and pulling stupid shit without thinking. The thought doesn’t stop her from calling a car back to Scorpia’s place, packing up the last of her clothes and gear as soon as she arrives. She takes the apartment’s key off her fob, tossing it on the counter and reveling in the slight scratch it creates in the cheap laminate.</p><p>She is mad. She does not know who she is mad <em>at</em>, but Scorpia seems a comfortable target. Catra would not have had to say a damn thing if she had not opened her mouth. She sneers at the dingy apartment as she gathers her things off the doormat, locks the door from the inside, and makes her way down to sit on the curb.</p><p>When she pictured finally leaving this place behind, it was always with Adora, if she is honest. Even during those five months, it was Adora coming and begging for her back, promising to join the Horde just to be together again. After the party, she pictured Adora coming here with her bright smile and shining love, a ray of sunshine in the shitty flat, helping her pack up what little she had there and load it into her car. They would laugh as they did so, trying to map out in their heads where everything had once been in their apartment. Adora would tease her about their wardrobes becoming one again.</p><p>Instead, Catra sits on a dirty curb and waits for a stranger in an SUV to pick her up, most of her things shoved in plastic bags to keep them off the asphalt. Catra stares at her phone screen, finally hitting <em>send</em> on that follow-up email she drafted, and wondering how Adora is doing in practice, right now. She would call her, or text maybe, but she knows Adora is not near her phone, and she does not want her to worry when she gets back to it. Best to just wait it out.</p><p>A man taking a smoke nearby eyes her, clearly judgmental. Catra knows it looks like a breakup – even if it is closer to the opposite. She hisses at him, claws snapping out, and he quickly puts out his light before hurrying back into his own apartment.</p><p>The SUV eventually arrives. The middle-aged woman driving it looks at her with pity. Catra does not hiss at her – it is hard, but she lets the woman think what she wants. The woman helps her load and unload the car, and Catra just takes it as a small kindness in the face of an absolutely shit life.</p><p>She uses her spare key – the key she never gave back to Adora, never wanted to – to let herself back into <em>their</em> apartment. <em>Her</em> apartment. <em>Home</em>.</p><p>She does not bother to put her stuff away, dropping the bags in a corner of their crowded bedroom and collapsing across the couch. She would crawl into the bed, but she doesn’t want her practice clothes in their sheets, and taking them off seems like a monumental effort.</p><p>She pulls out her phone and drafts a text to Scorpia. She does not risk sending it, not yet. She will wait until practice is long over, Scorpia on her way back or already at her apartment, before she sends it out. She cannot risk someone on the team reading it over her shoulder.</p><p>Catra feels <em>drained</em>. Between the confrontation giving her whiplash compared to the morning, and the effort of packing all her things and <em>running,</em> fueled only by her storming emotions, she just feels tired. She can feel anger stirring in her chest, but even she can acknowledge Scorpia is not the true recipient of it. Like her fight with Adora, like all her rage, her anger is only ever directed two places – at herself, and at Coach Weaver.</p><p><em>Shadow</em>. She can only hope she will let today’s outburst go. She has been their demon from childhood. She selected Adora from a lineup of potential foster candidates, supposedly, and then let Adora pick <em>her</em> out like a kid at the pound. She knows that it was not like that, not really, for Adora. That no matter what little they can remember that far back, Adora was looking for a friend and partner. Shadow was looking to complete her <em>set</em>. For a few years there, they were convinced Shadow had actually grown Adora in a lab. Shadow certainly seemed the eugenics type, and everybody could see Adora was skilled from childhood. She was a natural-born athlete and she had the drive to build herself even higher.</p><p>Thinking about Adora eases her, a bit. She tries to focus not on her outburst, but on the <em>intent</em> behind it. She has known she was in love since she was just eight years old. They have been together since they were fourteen, really. They have been open about it since they were eighteen. That morning Catra felt Adora’s love washing over her with such intensity it threatened to drown her. Catra is still terrified to say anything and find out Adora does not love her back in the same way she does.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Bow and Glimmer – and Swiftie, when he comes in – and then the entire <em>team</em> rib Adora for the entire day, but they all seem good-natured about it. She feels extra thrown off, the time back together with Catra immediately attuning her back to her frequency. She dodges corners, turning left, expecting to see Catra already fielding to her, but she isn’t there, and neither is Swiftie, because he can’t read her mind. She keeps glancing up, expecting to see a dark shadow slinking around an outer wall of the arena that she can make a moment of eye contact with and just <em>know</em> the lay of the field, but she isn’t there, and Adora is running blind – like always.</p><p>Their stats don’t suffer terribly. Her and Swiftie’s times go down, but not by anything that could not be dismissed as normal fluctuation. She fears it is the new normal.</p><p>Five weeks now, she reminds herself as she rinses in the team showers after practice. Normally she waits to get home if she does not have to go somewhere right after, but she has plans, even if they don’t involve leaving the complex.</p><p>“So, what are you going to do now?” Glimmer asks her as she packs her bag back up at her locker.</p><p>“Immediately, or long term?” Adora asks, knowing she means <em>you</em> to include more than just Adora. The extension makes her heart sing.</p><p>“Both?” Glimmer asks, shrugging.</p><p>“Immediately, I’m going to go home and text her about when we can next sneak out. Long term? Get on the same team,” Adora tells her. It is not much, but it is the best she has. Glimmer stills, looking at her, unsure.</p><p>“Both get on Bright Moon, you mean,” she says, asks, pleads just a little bit. Adora feels warmth burst in her chest.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>, if we can,” she tells her. Glimmer relaxes, nodding and straightening up.</p><p>“Well, you know who to talk to about <em>that</em>.”</p><p>She does.</p><p>Adora gathers her things and makes her way back to the practice court, climbing up the stands to knock on the door to Angella’s office. There are other ways to get there, but she prefers to go through the court rather than wander the hallways in the complex’s underbelly. Angella calls her in with a warm greeting.</p><p>Angella’s office is the antithesis of Coach Weaver’s. It sits like an observation deck over the court, but it never feels like she is spying and watching like Coach Weaver did. It feels like she just wants to enjoy the game and team she is so invested in. The office is sleek and professional, but Angella still has a small break area set up with couches which team members can, and often do, come in to fling themselves across during downtime.</p><p>Angella is at her desk when Adora enters. She smiles pleasantly at her, gesturing for her to sit across from her. “How are you, Adora?” she greets warmly, an amused smile already dancing on her lips. Adora fidgets nervously as she sits.</p><p>“I’m great! I mean- listen, I know you overheard this morning, we weren’t <em>quiet</em>,” Adora says, cutting straight to the point, because she is headfirst and direct, especially without Catra there to offer a guiding hand to a subtler approach. “And uh, I know you got an – odd email this morning,” she coughs.</p><p>“I also got a follow up. It was very passive aggressive,” Angella tells her. She is clearly trying not to laugh. Adora flushes.</p><p>“If it is not outright-aggressive then that is her really making an effort,” Adora says before realizing that does not sound <em>better</em>. “Um, I think she just got a little insulted at the idea of being replaced with a rookie. We’ve been training together since we were four, you know?” Adora tries instead. Angella raises an eyebrow at her.</p><p>“She said we were wasting you. That we should have found you a partner with at least an ounce of your worth,” Angella tells her.</p><p>Adora’s heart might have fallen out of her chest. She is not sure. She certainly cannot breathe, anymore. “Oh,” she says, softly, just <em>staring</em>, feeling her face turn bright red. Angella does not look insulted, if anything she looks amused. Swiftie should be insulted, a bit, she thinks distantly, but he is not here to see this, and her brain still has not rebooted from just how much respect Catra holds for her.</p><p>“Adora, we always intended to sign you both. When is her contract up?” Angella tells her gently, taking pity on her.</p><p>“Five weeks,” Adora breathes, because that is something she is still trying – and struggling – to do.</p><p>“Three weeks after the season starts,” Angella observes, turning away to face her computer screen. She is doing things on it, things Adora cannot see. She thinks she is only about halfway through rebooting her brain.</p><p>She <em>loves</em> Catra, dammit, and Catra does not put a single person in this world on a pedestal. She has been hurt too many times to be that foolish. She blindly respects no one – except, apparently, Adora. The conversation this morning should have prepared her for this, maybe, but she still feels shell-shocked.</p><p>“You should tell her how you feel,” Angella observes, glancing at Adora as she continues to do whatever it is she does in this office all day.</p><p>“Huh?” is what Adora manages, because she knows she is playing catch-up, okay, but she is pretty sure that came out of nowhere. At least on Angella’s side. Angella’s expression softens.</p><p>“The conversation this morning. You should tell her how you feel. You have been together for years, Adora. If she does not reciprocate now, best to find out before you end up under contract together again,” she advises. She clicks a few times and then turns away from her desktop, offering Adora another soft smile. “I have sent the information for a contract draft to legal. I will have a preliminary version back in a few days. Bring her around and we can discuss the signing package.”</p><p>“I- I’ll do that,” Adora promises, nodding hurriedly.</p><p>“Which instruction are you referring to?” Angella asks, amused.</p><p>“Both? I hope?”</p><p>Angella laughs at her. Adora does not mind.</p><p>She walks out of Angella’s office in a daze.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Catra &amp; Adora in this fic: We’ve been kissing since 8th grade, best friends for life, have had sex over 700 times, but what if she doesn’t love me? Guess I’ll die.<br/>I made Swift Wind a satyr because even I cannot justify putting a fucking horse on the court and there are satyrs in the background of the show. He’s just a very acrobatic satyr to compensate for the lack of wings.<br/>Emily is Entrapta’s girlfriend/partner because Entrapta is a robot-fucker (love that for her) and Emily was a Horde bot before Entrapta met/made her, so I just made it so that she was a Horde player Entrapta immediately fell into a great partnership with after getting poached. Darla is Entrapta’s car and she is 100% one of those people who lowkey wants to fuck her car.<br/>Song references this update: I always seem to do them in the 1st or 2nd scene so everyone can forget by the end, but “First Person On Earth” by Robert DeLong is SUCH a catradora song. After the “You and me until the end of the world” thing came out I was quaking at my genius for having it be only number four on my catradora playlist.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Light & Shadow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Adora experiences a weird mix of fight-or-flight instinct hitting her in the half second before her body realizes it is Catra, and the <i>oh shit, it’s Catra</i> instinct taking over once she does realize.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was the hardest chapter I’ve had to write yet. It refused to follow the outline and completely changed the timeline of events. I think I have it all ironed out now but because of the reworking I’m not sure if this fic will end but being 10 chapters or 11. I’ll change the chapter count if I have to.<br/>The next chapter is also fighting me as I try to rearrange things based off THIS chapter so I might be late posting it tomorrow. We'll have to see.<br/>CONTENT WARNING: There is a scene with Shadow Weaver in this chapter. Some of the phrases she says may be triggering for anyone who has had an abuser. Feel free to skip to the end of the scene once she appears if you need to. I do recommend reading the final two paragraphs of it, though.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Adora spends the whole drive home from practice bouncing just a little in her seat, gripping the wheel like it will keep her down on Earth. She had wanted to call Catra the moment she had walked out of Angella’s office, but she knows a phone call could be dangerous depending on who was around. She was too eager to send a text quite yet, just thrumming with the assurance it would be <em>them</em> again, so she resolved to wait until she got home to try and compose something.</p><p>She hauls her gym bag out of the trunk of her car, the eager quivering in her hands finally having worked itself out of her body on the drive home. She feels like she is coming down to something approaching normal again until she walks in her front door.</p><p>She spasms, dropping her bag on the floor, a weird mix of fight-or-flight instinct hitting her in the half second before her body realizes it is Catra, and the <em>oh shit, it’s Catra</em> instinct taking over once she does realize. Catra, for her part, just flicks an ear in her direction and does not move from where she is splayed across the couch, one arm thrown over her eyes as the afternoon sun shines through the windows into her face.</p><p>“You’re- here” Adora says, very intelligently, scrambling to lock the door behind her and pick her bag back up off the floor so she can properly put it away. After she tosses it into the closet, she approaches around the side of the couch to find Catra has raised her arm just enough to peek out at her from under it, flinching a little at the light.</p><p>“Don’t sound so disappointed,” she jokes, but she sounds tired as she lets her arm fall back in place. Adora hurries over to the balcony, closing the curtain enough that the light no longer falls on Catra’s face. She leaves it partially open for her. Catra likely laid there for the initial sunny spot before the light shifted to interrupt her- nap, maybe?</p><p>“I- I’m not! Actually, this is great- I mean, maybe not, because you look- Are you alright?” she fumbles, making her way back to the couch. Catra drops her arm to look up at Adora, peering up at her questioningly.</p><p>“You’re being weird. Do you want me to leave?” she asks. She sounds nervous, unsure. Her gaze is searching. Adora feels resolve flood through her chest, because she does not know what is going on, but Catra <em>needs</em> her.</p><p>“No. You’re staying. You live here, Catra,” she reminds her, because it feels like the right thing to say. Amusement curls at Catra’s lips as she lets out a small trill. It seems to surprise her, once again, and Adora has to bite down on her lip to keep from gasping. She reaches down, carefully hooking her fingers behind Catra’s head to lift her up so she can sit where she had been laying. Catra snuggles back in her lap happily, a proper purr rumbling through her.</p><p>“Damn right I do. I had a fight with the team and had to storm out during practice. I- I didn’t want to deal with Scorpia, after. I got my shit from her place and texted her to keep her mouth shut if she knows what is good for her. I’ve got as much dirt on her as she does on me,” Catra explains, nudging into Adora’s touch as she begins to stroke her hair. Adora feels that warm joy from the morning blooming through her again, breath catching. She nods, relieved, happy, and maybe a bit vindictive. She beams down at her <em>lover</em>.</p><p>“You’re staying,” she repeats, not even bothering to hide the excitement in her voice. Catra blinks her eyes open, soft gaze landing on her face.</p><p>“Hope you don’t mind me waking you up an hour early to run off to my shitty practice,” Catra warns her. She tilts her head a bit, nudging into Adora’s touch, and Adora happily obliges her.</p><p>“Never. I love waking up with you,” Adora tells her, sincerely. Catra trills again, stronger this time, cheeks blazing and clearly embarrassed. Adora bites down on her own embarrassment at the word slipping out, but – Angella’s words are getting in her head.</p><p>She had always <em>known</em> it. Known for years that Catra was <em>it</em> for her. Their situation was always so precarious, a secret relationship everyone knew about but no one had caught them in, that it just never seemed right. Once they were eighteen, free to kiss in front of the entire team and fall into the same bed every night, Adora had been totally held back by the fear of ruining everything they worked for.</p><p>Then she lost Catra. And maybe it took losing her to realize that the one thing worse than Catra not loving her back is Catra thinking she does not love her at all. Catra is an actions person, and she keeps showering her in love in all but name, and Adora needs her to know that she <em>feels</em> it, in every way. She worried the words would mean nothing without action behind them, but she worries more about Catra not <em>knowing</em>.</p><p>“So, I talked to Angella. She said to bring you around in a few days to discuss your signing package,” Adora tells Catra, grin breaking out across her face as Catra’s gaze snaps back to her. She leaves out what else Angella said – for now. It still does not feel like the right time, not yet. But Adora resolves that those words will be spoken between them, as soon as it feels right. Catra does not have to say it back – she just has to <em>know</em>.</p><p>“Yeah?” Catra questions, a bit breathless, her own smile blooming.</p><p>Adora hums, gently running her hands over Catra’s ears and watching as she uselessly tries to twitch them away. She continues stroking along them, scratching occasionally, and enjoying the purr that returns as Catra snuggles into her. “She sent to legal for a contract draft while I was in her office,” Adora assures.</p><p>“It is going to be us, again,” Catra breathes, eyes wide with realization. Awe tinges her voice. Adora nods, bright and eager, bending down to press a kiss to her forehead.</p><p>“Until the end of the world,” she promises. She thinks she sees tears appear in Catra’s eyes. She does not mention it. She knows their promise – and despite some missteps, she intends to keep it.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Adora does not ask about her fight with the team, and Catra is grateful for that. She could brush it off just as them teasing her about a one-night stand, but it would still feel like a lie, and she’s trying not to do that to Adora.</p><p>The fact is Catra fighting with the team is not that unusual. It has gotten better, over the years, but since Adora left it has flared up again. It seems everyone is looking to challenge her at all times - to prove she can't be what Adora was. They are right, in a way. Catra is a damn good player, but she is not the natural leader Adora was. She is certain the only reason Coach Weaver promoted her was to dig at Adora - and the rest of the team seems to have drawn the same conclusion. Sometimes it feels like they blame <em>her</em> for Adora leaving, just like Coach Weaver does.</p><p>There is no way for Adora to know all that, though. When they laid together the night before, just talking about their lives since they have been apart, both of them skated around the topics of their teammates. It was not the time, even if Catra <em>thinks</em> they are past that conflict now. At least they seem to be, as Adora happily gushes about Catra finally visiting Bright Moon to sign her contract.</p><p>“We’ll have to sneak you in. There are always fans hanging around that could post about you visiting - we don’t want another hospital incident. But you could meet Glimmer and Bow! And the rest of the team!” Adora says, excitedly, alternating between stroking Catra’s ears and gesturing wildly as she gushes.</p><p>The possibility of playing together, for <em>fun</em>, without their ghost of a foster warden hanging over them excites Catra as much as it does Adora, but she is content to lay still and luxuriate in it. The view is not half-bad either.</p><p>Adora looks down, and Catra realizes she has not <em>said</em> anything, too busy tracing her eyes along the curve of her partner’s jaw and drinking in the blue spark in her eyes. Catra blushes, speaking quickly to distract her. “Tell me about them,” she requests. Adora blinks down at her.</p><p>“The team?” she asks. Catra shakes her head.</p><p>“Glimmer and Bow. I know how important they are to you,” Catra says, feeling a spike of jealousy in her heart. She pauses, breathing, swallowing it down. She cannot have that if she is going to play with them, not being thrown into the thick of it mid-season. “You never had anyone else important to you like that. I want to know about them,” she manages. It sounds jealous, she knows, but it is the truth. And maybe, if she can be honest about it, she can keep from creating more issues over it.</p><p>She has enough issues.</p><p>Adora blinks down at her in surprise, gaze shifting away for a moment. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” she hedges, but she bites her lip. She has picked up on Catra’s jealousy, clearly, but when she looks back, she looks hopeful. Catra heaves a sigh, turning her head to look out the balcony doors.</p><p>“I’m not going to pretend I am not a bitter, okay? I’m jealous, just as a person. But if I want to <em>not</em> feel that way, I have to know them as something other than my replacements,” she coughs out, extracting the words like pulling teeth. She turns to look back up at Adora, who looks an odd mix of mystified and adoring. “So tell me about them,” she requests, again.</p><p>And Adora does. She tells her about how they have been paired up since they were just eight years old – Catra laughs at that, thinking about how at that age she already knew she was in love with Adora for the rest of her life. Catra chances telling Adora that she thinks Glimmer smells like sugary soap and hatred, and Adora spends so long laughing about that she gets tears in her eyes. She tells her Glimmer would probably be flattered.</p><p>Adora talks, softly, about how Glimmer and Bow were there for her, picking her up as her entire life collapsed. She admits that Glimmer resented Catra for a while, and Catra takes the warning thankfully, joking about the feeling being mutual.</p><p>“I was really jealous of her, at first,” Catra admits, because confessing is apparently the new normal in her life.</p><p>As much as she hates it, it really has changed her world for the better.</p><p>Adora looks at her inquisitively. “Why her?” she asks, like the idiot that Catra fell in love with. Catra rolls her eyes.</p><p>“She was <em>hanging</em> off you at that party, and she was rumoured to be your new partner. You have to know what that looks like, Adora,” Catra chastises, even though Adora likely has no clue what that looks like. It took her until they were nine to realize they were different <em>species</em>. She said she never thought the differences were that important.</p><p>Adora looks confused, and a bit amused. “You know I never keep up on what the news is saying. Besides, Glimmer and Bow have been together almost as long as we have. Breaking them up would not make any sense, tactically. And they are <em>together</em>, just like us,” Adora says, beaming the final part down at Catra. Catra feels herself blush.</p><p>“<em>I</em> never kept up on the news, either,” Catra points out. When she sees the look of realization on Adora’s face, she darts her gaze away, feeling her blush deepen.</p><p>“Is that what you were referencing when you said you knew the Bright Moon roll?” Adora asks, and she sounds <em>smug</em>. Catra is sure she is bright red by now. Her tail thuds anxiously against the couch cushions as she looks back at Adora. Adora is biting her lip, either trying to keep down a smirk or a laugh, but her eyes are <em>sparkling</em> with satisfaction over how much Catra thought about her. Catra looks away again. She wants to joke, wants to laugh about this with Adora, but-</p><p>It was not that nice.</p><p>“I felt like I was going crazy, Adora,” Catra grumbles, sitting up and turning away so she does not have to see Adora’s face. She draws her knees up, wrapping her arms around them and hugging them close to her chest. “I felt like twenty years just… suddenly meant nothing to you. And I know that wasn’t how it was – now, at least – but do you know how hard that was? To be missing you so bad, feeling like I meant nothing to you, maybe never even knew you? So yeah, I read every fucking article with your name in it. I had search alerts set up, like a fucking stalker. I was looking for an explanation. For any reason that didn’t involve talking to you and <em>hearing</em> how worthless I was.”</p><p>Catra is hyperventilating, she realizes. She presses her face into her knees, her rant having choked any of the air left in her lungs out of her. Her entire body felt like it was tingling.</p><p>Hands, on her back. Slowly being pulled into Adora’s arms, tucked against her chest. Adora’s pulse point is against her nose suddenly, and she presses in gladly. Adora just <em>knows</em>, letting her drink in her calming presence and squeezing her close.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Catra manages to pant against Adora’s neck. The evening had been going <em>so well</em>, but they were skirting ever closer to topics like this. This is why Catra had wanted to take <em>time</em> before coming home, but she was too weak, crawling back to Adora the second she hit a small bump and <em>dragging her down with her</em>.</p><p>“Catra,” Adora’s voice is harsh, admonishing, and Catra flinches against her neck. Adora startles just a little bit, realizing her error. She draws her in closer, letting out a slow breath to steady herself. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” Adora continues, voice soft. “I- I-“ Adora cuts off. Catra does not want to know, anyway. Things were good. Things were okay. She ruined it. She just wants to shove the storm of emotions down long enough to be <em>normal</em> again.</p><p>“Catra, can you look at me? I want you to see me for this conversation,” Adora prods, gently, squeezing her just a little. Catra swallows, nods against her throat. It takes her several long seconds before she is able to actually extract herself from Adora’s neck. She does not get far. Adora arranges her so she is curled in her lap, Catra's head on her shoulder so she is looking up at Adora’s blue eyes, shining with tears. Catra flinches away, but Adora squeezes her close, still holding Catra’s gaze.</p><p>“You don’t have to say this back. Or even feel it, really. I know you prefer actions to words. That’s why- why we had this whole fight. I jumped straight to trying to convince you I was right when you were mad, and that did not help. What helped was showing you love again, and telling you what I actually did,” Adora stops, drawing in a breath. Catra feels like she is drowning, but she is not sure what in. <em>Showing you love again</em>. Catra is shaking. “And I have always <em>tried</em> to show you, but I can’t undo my fuckup, either, so I need to say this, too. I need you to know it, if you don’t already. I really, really hope you do, but everything you just said – makes it sound like you don’t. And that is my fucking fault if so, because I didn’t tell you, and I didn’t show you enough.”</p><p>Adora cuts off with a heavy breath.</p><p>“Adora, I’m going to fucking die. Break up with me or tell me you love me, just- do it,” Catra manages to rasp, shocking even herself. Her ears flatten to the sides of her head, eyes going wide as she realizes what she said. Adora <em>stares</em> at her, eyes wide.</p><p>“I love you. I always did. Before, and after, and during,” Adora whispers, tears spilling down her face. Catra feels weightless again, and a bit like she might <em>scream</em>.</p><p>She says the first thing that comes to mind. “The fight,” she squeaks. Adora’s bewilderment breaks through the tears, and she stares at Catra in confusion.</p><p>“The fight?” she asks, her voice strained.</p><p>“The- the fight I had with the team. I may have told them the Horde took the only thing I love in the world from me,” Catra manages, still drowning, but in Adora’s blue gaze now.</p><p>The relief, the love, the joyous <em>release</em> that floods across Adora’s face could break Catra in two. The next thing she knows those blue eyes are right in front of her, and they are kissing.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Adora has felt loved under Catra’s touch for <em>years</em>. She has done everything she can to make Catra feel the same.</p><p>“You did. You <em>do</em>. But you are a words person and you just- never said it,” Catra explains as they lay together. Their clothes are gone, Adora’s torn a bit, bodies pressed so close together in the afterglow she can feel Catra’s pulse occasionally. “And you know how bad I am with self-doubt.”</p><p>The night is blissful. The two of them spend it cuddled in each other’s embrace, whispered confessions flowing between them. When they knew, when they felt it – every time they almost said it. Adora whispers assurances into Catra’s skin, spilling forth dozens of different love confessions she has held down over the years. It makes her partner squirm, sighing happily and turning her head to meet her for soft kisses.</p><p>The morning after is anxious.</p><p>“Shadow was there when I fought with the team. She heard. And she may have known it about as damn long as I have, but now she has proof,” Catra worries over breakfast, her teeth set on edge. “And Scorpio told them I’m sleeping with someone – I said it was a random rebound. Entrapta texted me that the current theory is a dominatrix. Because I need someone to keep my ass in line, apparently.”</p><p>They at least can laugh about that. Catra is still nervous to go to practice. She feels certain a confrontation is coming, and fears it may expose them. Adora spends the morning running her hands along Catra’s arms soothingly and pressing kisses to the back of her neck. When her head starts to get to her, Adora reminds her that the new contract is being drafted, that her current one is almost up, that they are almost free from Coach Weaver for the first time in their lives.</p><p>They thought they were free when they turned eighteen and the woman did not have the legal authority to break up their relationship anymore. They were wrong.</p><p>Catra asks her to distract her, so Adora tells her stories from practice, from her team, <em>their </em>team, trying to assure her that it will be different – it will be <em>good</em>. It seems to work. By the time Catra is getting in her ride down to the Horde complex, the fur on her arms is no longer standing on end.</p><p>Adora goes to practice feeling a bit more settled, assured in the knowledge that no matter what goes wrong today, they will be together, as partners and <em>lovers</em> in less than five weeks. She still makes sure to tuck her cellphone into her sports bra so she has it on her during practice. Just in case.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Practice is tense. Coach Weaver is nowhere to be found, but Catra knows better than to relax. She knows the woman who raised her, and her absence just means she is preparing for a calculated strike. Catra cannot focus on the game, can't get in sync with Scorpia, and half their plays fall apart.</p><p>She practically runs into the locker room after practice. She expects a confrontation from the team – she can hear them grumbling out on the court, not even stopping as they begin to pour in after her – but apparently they don’t want to even deal with her for long enough to put her in her place. It is a first.</p><p>Catra is gathering her bag over her shoulder, trying to focus on the fact that in another hour she and Adora will be able to relax in each other’s embrace, when she feels the fur on her shoulders stand on end. She grips the strap of her bag tighter and turns away from her locker.</p><p>“Coach,” she greets, eyeing Coach Weaver as she <em>looms</em> near the edge of the room.</p><p>“Walk with me, Catra,” is the instruction. Coach Weaver turns away, crooking a single finger to indicate for Catra to follow. Catra squares her shoulders and follows, ducking her head to avoid making eye contact with any of her teammates. Coach Weaver leads her to her office, drawing the blinds that look over the court as they enter so they are completely alone. Fantastic.</p><p>“It seems that you are trying to convince yourself you do not need Adora,” Coach Weaver starts, slowly beginning to circle around Catra. She always loved to do this, like she thinks she is a predator and everyone she encounters is prey.</p><p>Bad news for her vanity. Catra has claws, and she knows how to use them.</p><p>“Oh, I know, I am <em>‘nothing without Adora</em>,’” Catra quotes, rolling her eyes. Her teeth are on edge. She has always been a good actor, but she knows the key to a good lie is a seed of truth. Even a seed could be dangerous here. “Sometimes a girl needs to get laid. Not that it is <em>any</em> of your fucking business,” she adds, ears flattening against her head.</p><p>It really is so far from Coach Weaver’s business it is laughable. The other woman does not seem to agree. She stills her circle, halting between Catra and the door, fixing her with a glare.</p><p>“You insolent <em>child-</em>“</p><p><em>That</em> pisses Catra off. Her whole life, being forced to play along for her foster mother. She swore not a day longer when she turned eighteen. “Sorry, <em>Shadow</em>, but I’m not your kid anymore,” she hisses, hands fisting at her sides. Her claws are out – she is not sure how long they have been.</p><p>That enrages Coach Weaver, just like Catra knew it would. Even as children, even as her wards, Shadow was always <em>Coach Weaver</em>. Always holding her position and detachment from them over their heads. First names were for people, and she was determined to be a monster. Catra learned not to call her Shadow to her face young - learned later not to even risk it in her head, from the consequences of a slip-up.</p><p><em>Shadow</em> whirls around, brandishing a pointed finger only an inch in front of Catra’s face. It takes all twenty years of her conditioning for Catra not to flinch. Shadow’s voice is booming, seething. “You will <em>respect</em> me-”</p><p>Catra halts, the utter stillness of realization hitting her as she stares up at the seething face of the woman who raised her, hurt her, broke her, and feels her anger stronger than her fear. Shadow pulls back, smug, believing she has <em>won</em> by instilling fear in Catra. She has not. She <em>will</em> not.</p><p>There is one person Catra respects in this world. Adora shines golden, kind, <em>warm</em>. She radiates love and power – true power. Shadow clutches and clings at title and superiority. Adora’s years of training, dedication, and pure talent inspire awe. Her kindness knows no limits – not even to drunk, pathetic exes who tried to hurt her just hours before. She is to be respected, and to use a word like that for Shadow is to disrespect Adora - someone who actually <em>deserves</em> it.</p><p>“No,” Catra decides, straightening up. Her voice is hard. “You have not earned it. I will not respect you. Fuck yo-“</p><p>“This type of behaviour is why Adora <em>left you.</em> Your inadequacy drove Adora from this team. And now, instead of trying to make yourself worthy of approaching Adora’s spotlight again, you have gone crawling into the gutter to <em>wallow</em>,” Shadow hisses, baring down on her. Threats failing, resorting to emotional torture. Two weeks ago, Catra would have broken where she stood at that, but she knows <em>better</em> now. She is not the broken girl Shadow made her to be, and her fury burns white-hot. Threats mean nothing to her, but Shadow will not speak about Adora that way - like she knows her, understands her. Shadow is not capable of understanding someone so <em>bright</em> and loving like Adora.</p><p>“Adora never left me,” Catra hisses, leaning forward into Shadow’s space with a suicidal recklessness. “She left <em>you</em>. <em>You</em> drove the girl I love from me. If it wasn’t for you, I never would have lost her. I never would have <em>hurt</em> her. I am fucking done with you. Promote Scorpia, because in four weeks I’m <em>gone</em>. You can take my contract and shove it so far up your ass you <em>choke</em>.”</p><p>Shadow tries to make a grab for her arm, voice raising in a roar of indistinct rage. Catra dodges backwards easily, hissing in anger. Catra whirls away and stalks from the room, hearing and seeing nothing but her own raging emotions. Behind her, Shadow calls for her, voice searing with anger and betrayal, but Catra was never <em>loyal</em> to begin with.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Adora makes it through practice without incident. She is <em>terrible</em>, worry and an utter attunement to Catra’s frequency keeping her and Swiftie from being effective on the field, but she does not fall on her face or get a phone call.</p><p>As she walks back to the locker room, she pulls her phone out and sends a nervous text to Catra, settling on merely asking her how her day went.</p><p>“Hey, Adora.”</p><p>A familiar purr stops her dead in her tracks. She looks up, shocked, to see Catra leaning smugly against her locker. Vaguely, she is aware of Angella standing off to the side, looking amused as Adora’s face spasms.</p><p>Adora runs to her, gear and phone forgotten, wrapping Catra in her arms.</p><p>“Are you okay?” she rushes, squeezing her partner tight. She is <em>ecstatic</em> to see her. She is also terrified of why she is here at Bright Moon, taking this kind of risk, <em>still wearing her Horde uniform</em>.</p><p>“Well,” Catra drawls, “you’ll never believe what I told Shadow today.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Adora: Catra likes action I’ll show her my love and she’ll understand &amp; believe me.<br/>Catra: Adora is a words person she didn’t say she loves me so I must be reading too far into this.<br/>They’re yearning, your honor.<br/>No one was supposed to confess their love in this chapter it just happened okay. What was supposed to be a fluffy evening before the storm turned into a panic attack and I couldn’t control it.<br/>I really wanted Catra to get her badass moment over Shadow Weaver like she gets when she takes her down in season one, but physical fights aren’t how (most) abuse survivors escape their abusers, so I went the more realistic route of standing up to her.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The Contract</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Adora cannot, it turns out, believe what Catra told Coach Weaver. She feels like she was having heart palpitations just hearing her repeat it. Glimmer cheers, somewhere off to the right. Somebody says “Take that, bitch.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It only took 40k words to kind of play sports in the sports fic. In my defense, I know nothing about any sport but hockey and I still don’t know why I did any of this.<br/>This one is a bit weird because the first scene takes place before the last scene of the last chapter, and then the next scene picks up after that scene, so just keep that mind when going into this.<br/>I made the decision in this update to start referring to their time apart as six months. The week of the party was mid-way into the fifth month, when Catra had six weeks left. When Catra went back to their apartment she had five weeks left. A few days passed over the last two chapters and now it is the end of her fifth week/beginning of her fourth.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Catra emails Angella during the car ride away from the Horde complex and back to their apartment. Before she has walked in their front door she has a reply. She considers changing, but she is running on adrenaline, anger, and <em>definitely</em> <em>not logic</em>. She keeps her uniform on out of spite, settling on merely throwing her gym bag into the closet before she stalks back out.</p><p>She strides through the front doors of the Bright Moon complex with her head held high. She feels people staring at her as she makes her way into the building, meeting Angella just inside the lobby. The woman greets her warmly.</p><p>“We can talk in my office,” she tells her, guiding her with a single hand on her shoulder. It makes Catra’s fur bristle. Angella seems to pick up on it, dropping her hand with an apologetic smile and continuing on.</p><p>People stared at Catra as she entered. Fans gathered outside, spectators here for some preseason event, even a pair of reporters near the gift shop all saw her. Catra caught the flashes of cameras multiple times.</p><p><em>Good</em>. Horde fraternization policies may prevent personal liaisons with players from other teams, but they cannot extend to professional meetings without violating League regulations. Catra could be fined for visiting Adora’s apartment, but a meeting with Angella is not only within her rights – it is actively encouraged by League policies to facilitate player movement between teams. Trades are always a good source of drama, and thus ticket sales. The photos will be online within the hour – within two every analyst in the sport would swear on their own grave that her and Adora are reuniting. They may claim that was the plan all along – that this was all a publicity stunt. If only.</p><p>Catra finds herself in Angella’s office, comfortably draped across a pink loveseat as they discuss her signing package. Adora is still in practice, not yet aware of her presence or the speculative articles already going up. It is a role reversal, one that makes the corner of Catra’s mouth twitch up even through the still-burning adrenaline and residual ice of anger.</p><p>The contract draft is not back from legal, but it does not need to be. It would just have been a framework for discussions to start from – an example for the terms they decide to set. Catra is more than happy to jump straight to signing.</p><p>“One year, five-month contract term. Make the adjustments to the numbers to keep the same percentages. That is my offer,” Catra says, leaning back from the stack of papers. Angella raises an eyebrow at her, but after a moment the corner of her lip tugs up.</p><p>“Ending on the same day?” she asks. Catra nods.</p><p>“If you are as good as Adora says you are, you don’t have anything to worry about. We will not <em>want</em> to leave. But if we do, if we need to – we do it together. No more staggered birthdays keeping us apart,” Catra tells her. Angella just nods, understanding.</p><p>“I’ll have the contract with the revised terms sent to your apartment over the weekend. Adora can bring in the signed papers on Monday,” she agrees. She leans back from the coffee table they have been doing this on despite the fact Angella has a perfectly good desk on the other side of the room. Catra senses the older woman wanted her to be more at ease. It was going to take a lot more than a loveseat to get her there, but she appreciates the thought.</p><p>Contract negotiation had been stilted, awkward. The only thing keeping her from mentally spiraling is the narrow-minded focus she has been employing to keep herself moving. Occasional tremors still run through her from her confrontation with Shadow, chewing at her frayed nerves. Angella seems to understand there is a tension lying beneath her surface, seeking release. She steers Catra over to the windows down into the practice court, saying nothing, letting Catra just <em>watch</em>.</p><p>She has not gotten to see Adora move on the court in six months. She has not gotten to see the way her body flows as she dodges obstacles, lunging with her stick to catch the ball. The way her entire body shifts as she digs her heel into the ground to twist around and score a point. The look of concentration on her face as she surveys the court and writes a play in her head. Catra knows Adora’s body in more ways than any other, but seeing the woman on the field still sometimes leaves her struggling for breath.</p><p>She wants that, again. Wants to be up close and personal, passing their ball back and forth, leaping over obstacles and covering each other’s backs from other duos seeking to steal points. She wants to look to her right and see her lover, knowing with a simple glance what play they are going to make.</p><p>Catra turns away from the window. Practice is about to be over, anyway, and she would like to make a dramatic entrance. “Angella? I have a request.” Angella looks up from her desk. Catra gestures down to the court below. "It has been six months," is all she has to say. Angella smiles at her.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Adora cannot, it turns out, believe what Catra told Coach Weaver. She feels like she is having heart palpitations just hearing her repeat it. Glimmer cheers, somewhere off to the right. Somebody says “Take that, bitch.” It could have been anyone. Anyone but Catra, who she has not stopped staring at since she appeared in the locker room Adora has <em>imagined</em> her in so many times but did not think she would actually get to see her in for another <em>month</em>.</p><p>“I love you. You terrify me to my core, but I love you,” Adora tells Catra, both hands on her partner’s shoulders. Catra stands like a pillar of smugness, claws flexing with casual power, eyes shining with the light of satisfaction. She looks like a goddess of vengeance to Adora, capable of the impossible. Adora still can't <em>breathe</em>.</p><p>“Wanna pick your stick back up, princess?” Catra questions, still smirking. Adora startles, realizing she had pretty much dropped everything she was carrying when she saw Catra, including her equipment. She scrambles to pick her gear up, shoving it back in her locker and- “No, leave it out,” Catra instructs as Adora tries to tuck her stick away without doing the proper locker Tetris first. Adora pauses, turning to blink at her in confusion.</p><p>This is the point where she registers that Catra has her <em>own</em> stick – or at least, a borrowed Bright Moon stick, pastel purple and sparkling – dangling from her left hand. Adora sucks in a breath.</p><p>“No,” she breathes in shock. Catra’s grin borders on feral.</p><p>Angella says anyone who wants to hang back is free to play a few more rounds. To become acquainted with their latest recruit. She says some other stuff, too. Adora is floating in a haze of <em>Catra</em> that has not stopped since she caught sight of her, leaned up against her locker and looking like a vision from her wildest dreams.</p><p>As the team disperses onto the court again, they fall back into their old starting position wordlessly. Moments before the game is called, Adora looks back over her left shoulder, and Catra is there, already crouching down to prepare for a blitz. She just <em>knows</em> it, understands it.</p><p>They are not perfect. Sometimes they fight for control, wordlessly in a way she knows no one else on the court can see. They have always been a give-and-take – Adora has never made a play without Catra informing it, sometimes even writing it for her. They set each other up, and after so long apart, their instincts do not necessarily lead them to the same play.</p><p>They still post better times than any that Adora has made in the six months without Catra there. They still fall within the fluctuation range of their old stats, from before all this happened. Adora still looks to her left and catches Catra’s eye as she makes a vault, the ball passing between them seamlessly.</p><p>They are not perfect. They are not flawless. But they still know each other, and a few stumbles will have them finding their footing again. They score a point, time is called, and Adora’s body lights up with abandon. She kisses Catra right there on the field. Catra practically leaps into her arms, high on adrenaline and <em>them</em>.</p><p>Glimmer boos in the background, and Catra <em>laughs</em>.</p><p>Adora’s body is thrumming with an energy she did not know she was missing until she and Catra had stepped onto the court again together. When they come bounding off the court, Catra is clutching her hand and beaming in a way she has not seen in six months. They part in the locker room, a single kiss passed between them before Catra insists on calling a car to pick her up, not wanting to risk anyone seeing them driving together. Adora lingers, taking some good-natured ribbing from Glimmer and Bow.</p><p>“I know I have been harsh on her – but she totally deserved it,” Glimmer tells Adora, shoving at her shoulder. Her grin softens to a kind smile despite her words. “I can see she cares about you, though. And you two are a <em>hell</em> of a duo,” Glimmer concedes.</p><p>“I really, really love her,” is the only response Adora can manage, because it is true, and she is beaming.</p><p>“We got that from the make out session after you scored,” Bow responds, amused. Adora has the grace to blush.</p><p>“You like her, though,” Adora adds, not a question – not quite. She had so many other things to worry about, Catra finally meeting Glimmer and Bow had barely registered as a blip on the radar. Still, it was something she <em>had</em> been worried about, in the five months she imagined them reuniting, and the days that have followed.</p><p>“She’s okay,” Glimmer sniffs, but her voice is fond. She is still smiling, just a little.</p><p>“I was <em>terrified </em>of you two meeting,” Adora admits. She decides enough time has passed since Catra left for her to start gathering her things as they talk.</p><p>Glimmer looks vaguely offended. “Why?” she questions. Adora sucks in a breath as she heaves her bag over her shoulder.</p><p>“Bow is an angel. Anyone can get along with him. He might have been too nice for her, but nothing would have blown up,” Adora explains, raising an eyebrow at Glimmer. Glimmer narrows her eyes at Adora as the three of them begin to walk from the locker room.</p><p>“And me?”</p><p>“<em>You two</em> were going to get along like a house on fire, or <em>literally set the house on fire</em>. I never decided which was the better option,” Adora explains. Glimmer looks <em>flattered</em>, which, yeah, <em>was the exact problem</em>.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>When Adora gets home, Catra has only just gotten changed. She walks out of the bedroom at the sound of the front door. Adora takes her time, turning away to lock the deadbolt and then heading over to the closet to stow her bag. Catra feels the tension under her skin gathering as her lover stalls. When Adora turns away from the closet and finally makes eye contact with her, there is a shining worry in her eyes that makes her breath catch. Adora takes her hand, cautiously leading her to the couch and steering her to sit beside her.</p><p>“I know, before, we were in front of everyone. So you may have said things in a way that were downplayed, or exaggerated, or-“ Adora cuts off, biting her lip before reaching out a hand to cup Catra's cheek. “Are you okay?” she asks.</p><p>Catra cracks in two.</p><p>Adora holds her for <em>two hours</em>. She shakes, and she cries, and she hisses at how <em>stupid</em> she is being. She is fine, she made it out okay, there is no need to suddenly be <em>afraid</em> now, hours later. She feels weak, and scared, with no cause but the aftershocks of a confrontation over for hours now. Feelings that were there, at the time, but she pushed down under adrenaline and anger – until the moment Adora asked her and the flood gates <em>broke</em>.</p><p>Adora is right. Catra downplayed her fear, downplayed the danger she knew she was in, because she knew if she let herself feel it she would break like this. She had focused on the vindictive words and not the way anger had taken over her body like a terrifying possession, making her shake with the fear that this is how Shadow feels all the time - that for a moment, she became her.</p><p>Adora just holds her through it all, stroking her back, hugging her close, calling her <em>brave</em>. Telling her she understands. Telling her this is how she felt six months ago, sitting in the Bright Moon team infirmary and then later in their apartment, alone, still shaking from her confrontation with Shadow.</p><p>For the first time, Catra really <em>understands</em> Adora leaving. She knew why she left, that she had always understood, but now she understands the emotional wave she went through, <em>why</em> she struggled to think clearly enough to call her. Catra feels so wrung out her thoughts barely seem her own. She has been operating on adrenaline, spite, and conditioned behaviours for the last several hours. In the safety of her lover’s arms, she comes apart. Adora is there for her, with comforting words and soft touches. It makes her feel bitter resentment, choking at her throat, that Adora went through this <em>alone</em>.</p><p>“I wasn’t alone. I had Glimmer and Bow. They aren’t you, they never could be, but they helped me. Saved me, maybe. And I think- I think you just saved yourself,” Adora tells her.</p><p>Catra wishes she had that faith in herself. She knows better – knows she was only able to say what she did because of Adora, <em>for</em> Adora. If Shadow had never brought Adora up, Catra would have stood there and took it, maybe even crumpled. Fighting twenty years of conditioning was only possible because of the anger she felt for Adora in that moment, not because she finally gathered the courage to confront Shadow over all she had done to her – to them.</p><p>“That’s still strength,” Adora whispers to her, quietly, petting her hair. “What you did - standing up to her like that… seemed like the impossible to me. <em>You</em> seem impossible to me.”</p><p>Catra turns her head, blinking up at her through her tears. “You really love me, huh,” she says weakly, because she <em>can</em>. Because she knows it, and she can feel it, and she needs to focus on something other than fear and anger.</p><p>Through a watery smile, Adora beams down at her. “I really do,” she agrees.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Adora was nervous to go to drills the next day. She could have skipped, the team certainly would have understood, but Catra insisted she go. Catra could get away with skipping her own drills that Friday, staying tucked away safely in their apartment. It would give Shadow the weekend to cool off and come to terms with things. On Monday, Catra would have to walk back into the Horde complex, but she would do it signed to Bright Moon, a free woman. There was only one week of preseason left. Three weeks of games, and they would be together again.</p><p>Adora keeps her phone on her all day, nervously sending texts Catra’s way. Catra responds to every one with the link to whatever article she is reading to distract herself at that exact moment in time. Dozens of preseason events are taking place, but there still seems to be a flood of articles about the all-but-confirmed speculation that the Horde’s star duo has signed to Bright Moon. By the time practice is over, the articles seemed to have reached the consensus that the contract announcement would take place on Monday. The Horde has yet to release a statement. Coach Weaver apparently flipped off a journalist who caught up with her outside the complex. The news makes Adora laugh, and then sets her teeth on edge.</p><p>Adora almost expects to walk out to her car and find Coach Weaver there, leaning against it and waiting to strike with a vicious touch and fowl words. She isn’t there, and neither is anyone else. Adora still calls Catra the moment she gets in the car, swallowing her worry and forcing her hands to grip the steering wheel like a lifeline.</p><p>“You okay?” are the first words out of Catra’s mouth. Adora laughs, a bit derisive, a bit relieved.</p><p>“I was going to ask you that. No, I just needed to hear your voice. To know you were there. I’m driving home right now,” Adora assures her. It is a stupid fear. Coach Weaver never showed up at Bright Moon six months ago when Adora left – but she had been afraid of it then, and she is afraid of it now. Afraid of coming home to find her there, or Catra gone again somehow.</p><p>Catra hums at her words. Adora grabs onto the first stray thought and chases it as a distraction. “I had a meeting with Angella. She is going to have Glimmer take over as shot-caller again for the first three weeks. The first game of the season I play, we’ll play <em>together</em>.”</p><p>“Really? I didn’t think Glimmer was nearly the shot-caller you are,” Catra asks, sounding amused but a bit breathless. Adora rolls her eyes.</p><p>“<em>I’m</em> not the shot-caller I am, without you. Bright Moon was doing fine under Glimmer until I came along – they can make it another three weeks,” Adora says, because it is <em>true</em>. She is a good shot-caller – she is an infinitely better one with Catra by her side. Catra purrs down the line, satisfied and happy. The phone distorts it, washing out the sound, but it still eases Adora’s nerves. She is able to unclench her hands on the wheel.</p><p>“I’m texting Scorpia right now,” Catra says, conversationally, like she is merely reciprocating by telling Adora what she is doing, and not trying to give her a <em>heart attack</em>.</p><p>“Yeah?” Adora wheezes, chest tight. Drills are long over for the Horde by now. If Scorpia is texting Catra, she is likely doing it from her own apartment, and not at Coach Weaver's beckoning. The thought only eases her slightly.</p><p>The light turns green and it takes her a minute to register it. A honk spurs her to resume driving. At least she isn’t worrying about Shadow, anymore.</p><p>Catra has the nerve to laugh. “She says Shadow tried to promote her to shot-caller at practice today. She also says I missed a sweater at her place,” Catra tells her, voice sparkling with amusement. “She wants to meet up. At our apartment.”</p><p>Adora’s brain stops. “Ours?”</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Letting Scorpia into their apartment is weird. She enters the space sheepishly – like she does any other room – and hovers uncertainly by the door until Catra sighs and motions for her to sit on the couch. Scorpia awkwardly hands her the sweater that is definitely Adora’s, actually, but Catra still had and accidentally left behind. She tosses it into their bedroom without care before returning to the living room.</p><p>Catra sits on the coffee table, facing her, because their apartment might be bigger than Scorpia’s place, but they still don’t have much in the way of chairs or room for them. She does not feel like dragging the kitchen chairs into the living room when cross-legged on the coffee table works fine. Adora lounges on the balcony outside, her back to them, and puts a monumentally pathetic effort into pretending to not be eavesdropping.</p><p>“I’ll be honest, I suspected that first night, but you have balls messing with your contract like this, Wildcat,” Scorpia tells her as she sits. Catra raises an eyebrow at her.</p><p>“You suspected?” she asks. She thought she had been – well, not <em>subtle</em>, but convincing at the very least. She knew Scorpia suspected something, but she never would have thought she was <em>right</em>.</p><p>Scorpia shrugs, glancing out Adora’s way nervously before answering. “You were… really hung up on her. It just did not track for you to suddenly be fine settling with someone else,” she explains. She does a remarkable job of not sounding bitter, which leads Catra to voice her own suspicion.</p><p>“You and the Plumeria girl?” Catra asks. Scorpia blushes, ducking her head.</p><p>“I’ve known Perfuma a week and I think I might be in love with her. We talk everyday,” Scorpia confesses. Catra laughs, but it is not unkindly. It is so very <em>Scorpia</em> she cannot help but be amused.</p><p>“Good for you. Hope she feels the same,” Catra tells her, honestly. She pauses. “If you, uh, suspected – why did you tell the team about the dress?” she asks, a little cautious, a little suspicious.  She <em>wants</em> to be friends with the other woman, but things between her and Scorpia have always been strained – Catra was a wreck, and then the weird crush, and the sneaking around, and the <em>blackmail</em>. She wants to believe she can trust the other woman, but telling the team about the dress had felt like a breach of that.</p><p>Scorpia looks sheepish. “Mostly because I’m terrible under pressure. But I thought it would distract from Adora? I mean, I never saw her in a dress <em>or</em> leather. I thought it might… cover your tracks?” Scorpia explains. Catra stills, staring blatantly at the other woman.</p><p><em>A leather illusion constructed around the concept of decency</em>.</p><p>“So when you said that thing- about the dress being leather...?” Catra questions. Scorpia shrugs, a bit guiltily.</p><p>“I know it was embarrassing, but – I thought it would keep you safe,” Scorpia explains.</p><p>Catra feels a bit like the wind has been knocked out of her. <em>You’re oversharing</em>. No, she wasn’t. She was <em>protecting</em>. Catra feels her ears twitch uselessly at the sides of her head while she just stares. She knows she should say <em>something</em>, but her mind feels like it has completely halted.</p><p>There is a beat of silence. Scorpia is looking up at her with trepidation. Catra is still reviewing every interaction from the last week in a new light, so she just waits. She was anxious when Scorpia first texted her – she was <em>worried</em> when Scorpia asked to meet at Adora’s place like it was just <em>assumed</em> – but this conversation has been – good. Illuminating.</p><p>“What exactly did you tell Coach Weaver yesterday?” Scorpia asks, looking nervous. Catra sighs, because she knew that Scorpia had texted her over more than a sweater, but still-</p><p>She worries where this conversation will go. She still can’t help the ghost of a smile that plays at her lips when she replies. “I told her I was leaving. And that she could shove my contract so far up her ass she choked on it,” she tells her, smug.</p><p><em>Scorpia</em> chokes, on her own tongue, or the air, or nothing, bending over as she starts coughing and wheezing. Adora, who has been doing a terrible job of pretending to not be listening already, barks out a laugh from the balcony. She turns around, meeting Catra’s gaze with a grin. Catra flicks her ear towards her and Adora comes to her beckon, slipping between the cracked sliding doors and making her way to the sit behind Catra on the table. She wraps her arms around Catra’s waist and pulls her into her lap. Catra flushes at the blatant affection being given in front of someone else, but she lets herself be held. It is nice.</p><p>Scorpia finally recovers from her shock, breathing still a little off and face flushed red. Then she seems to notice Catra’s change in position and turns even more red, gaze darting away.</p><p>“I turned her down on the promotion,” Scorpia says. Catra freezes, blatantly staring at the other woman. She can feel Adora still with her own shock beneath her.</p><p>“<em>Why?</em>” Catra asks, blinking at her. Scorpia is now approaching the same shade as her chitin. She finally makes eye contact with Catra again.</p><p>“My contract is up mid-season, you know?” Scorpia says, like that explains anything. Catra nods, slowly.</p><p>Scorpia was a weird case. A second string that got pulled up to a first string contract when Lonnie’s old partner broke her leg during a match. Scorpia and Lonnie had clicked as partners quickly enough to get them back into the thick of it mid-season. By the end of the season, Lonnie’s ex was just about healed, Adora was leaving, and suddenly Catra needed a partner. She had not thought Scorpia would want to go <em>back</em> to second string after all of this.</p><p>“And, um, well – you know the anti-fraternization policy,” Scorpia adds, eyes darting between Catra and Adora. Catra gets it, and she <em>laughs</em>.</p><p>“We’re terminally gay, aren’t we?” she asks, amused. Scorpia nods with an eagerness that should not be endearing, but it <em>is</em>.</p><p>“Perfuma is – she has had enough people ashamed of being with her, because of how she is. I don’t want to have to hide with her any longer than we have to,” Scorpia explains.</p><p>“Scorpia, it has been <em>a week</em>,” Adora points out from behind her, but she sounds amused. Catra turns, looking up at her partner to see her eyes sparkling with mirth. Adora darts her gaze down to Catra’s and a small smirk passes between them before Catra turns her attention back to Scorpia.</p><p>Scorpia does not even look admonished. She shrugs, soft smile still on her face. “I know what I want,” she argues.</p><p>“I wish I could see Shadow’s face when she realizes she is losing another player to being a lesbian,” Catra cackles.</p><p>“Well, I think she is going to go for Entrapta next, and we all know how she feels about Emily,” Scorpia adds. “I think they’re going to run away back to Dryl together before the postseason finishes.”</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Adora walks into practice an hour early on Monday, not even surprised to see Angella waiting for her beside her locker. She beams at her, digging into her bag and pulling out the stack of signed papers.</p><p>Within ten minutes the announcement is on all of Bright Moon’s socials. The star duo is back.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Catra is shocked when she walks into practice on Monday and no one yells at her – no one even talks to her. Lonnie is shot-caller, and no one mentions why. She and Scorpia have been taken off the main line-up. She expects screaming and anger. She half-expects to be forced to leave – but she does not even catch sight of Shadow for the entire practice.</p><p>She corners Lonnie in the locker room afterwards, tail swishing behind her. She just crosses her arms, waiting, as Lonnie ignores her in favour of changing out of her practice uniform. Catra is patient, and eventually Lonnie is dressed again and turns to her with a sigh.</p><p>“No one but Coach Weaver expected you to stay after Adora left. That is why we gave you such shit. We knew you were leaving. It felt like you were stringing us along, pretending you weren’t going chasing after her,” Lonnie tells her, a bit bitter, but mostly tired. Catra stills.</p><p><em>You’re stringing us out to go play dress-up?</em> A lot of things suddenly start to make sense to her.</p><p>“<em>I</em> didn’t know I was going to chase after her,” Catra argues, pointlessly, as she uncrosses her arms.</p><p>“You’re just as oblivious as Adora. The only one who didn’t know that is you,” Lonnie tells her, raising an eyebrow. Catra scoffs, but as she turns away with it, she feels a slight smile tug at her lips. When she meets Lonnie’s gaze again the hard line is gone from it. She stares at her neutrally. It is the kindest she has really been to her in months, the not-yet-betrayal finally done with.</p><p>“Shadow Weaver?” Catra asks, because she refuses to call the woman Coach, but she would bet half the team does not even know her first name. Lonnie glances around before answering, but she chuckles.</p><p>“Hordak went Manager on her ass and basically ordered her to let you go. Said proving contract breach would be near-impossible and that her personal attachments were distracting her. He told her that she should be focusing on filling the space you guys left rather than <em>wallowing</em>. It was fucking hilarious,” Lonnie admits, smirking.</p><p>Catra has a good cackle at that, relief flooding through her. When her laughter subsides, she straightens back up and extends a hand to Lonnie. “Truce?” she asks. Lonnie looks down at her hand. After a moment, she takes it.</p><p>“Ceasefire,” she offers, a smirk playing at her lips. “We’re still going to kick your asses when we face you in week four.”</p><p>“<em>You can try</em>.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Traces of PTSD in this one, because I felt that was very important to include for them, but they’re finally free.<br/>Remember that scene from the office where Pam’s husband holds up an engagement ring and says “I bought it a week after we started dating”? Yeah that’s scorfuma. They’re like the opposite of catradora I love it. Perfuma is, as intended by her character designer, a trans woman in this. That is what Scorpia was alluding to as far as people being ashamed of her. Perfuma is publicly out so she doesn’t have to be any more specific about it.<br/>Lonnie’s old partner was the dyke with emo hair who is in the show for all of two seconds in like episode two or three after Catra returns to the Fright Zone after Thaymor. I got really attached to that dyke, okay. Kyle &amp; Rogelio are each other’s partners.<br/>SO MUCH editing and cutting took place here I hope the narrative stills flows decently. The common plot thread of Catra leaving is there in all the scenes, but I still felt like it was a bit messy emotionally. That was kind of the POINT, to show that they were going through a bit of a ride, but idk how well I made it work. I had a lot to wrap-up, and I considered making this two chapters initially, but I didn’t have enough to flesh it out as two separate pieces.<br/>Final smut chapter tomorrow, and then the epilogue.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The Table</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The table already had claw marks in it, anyway.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have wanted for them to have sex on that table since Catra ruined it in chapter four. IT’S TIME. Finally.<br/>This is set five weeks after the last chapter, at the beginning of the fourth week of the season.<br/>CONTENT WARNING: Mentions of claw-play (I guess?? If that’s a thing) at the very end. Doesn’t actually happen on-screen.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Adora turns to her left and Catra is there, sending the ball her way. She intercepts it on instinct. She spins back on her heel, drawing out her wind-up to give Catra an extra moment to make it into the endzone with her.</p><p>She sends the ball forward into the net, the point is scored, and time is called. Match-point, cheering and blood pounding in her ears. A close game, as close as they come, but Bright Moon has won, and off to the left of the goal Adora can see Coach Weaver fuming over the loss. Adora spins back around, arms already coming up to intercept Catra as she leaps into her arms.</p><p>They are far from the first duo to kiss after making a goal, especially a game-winning one. They probably are not even the first duo to barely make it in the front door of their apartment, afterwards.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Catra likes to think she was reasonable, after the game. Some reporter tried to pull them in for an interview about their first game back together and she flat out hissed at them, dragging Adora away by the hand, but she managed to keep her hands off her until they reached their front door.</p><p>Not a moment longer, though.</p><p>Adora is still fumbling to relock the deadbolt behind them as Catra presses against her front, hands on the hem of her shirt and tugging <em>up</em>. If she were in a random piece of clothing Catra would have shredded it by now, but they kind of need their uniforms.</p><p>“Catra,” Adora half-gasps, half-laughs, bringing her hands up to allow her shirt to come away. As soon as it is gone Catra is going for her bra, as well. Either Adora managed the deadbolt finally or she gave up on it – Catra does not particularly <em>care</em>.</p><p>She finally gets her hands on Adora’s skin, feeling a sigh of relief escape her as she leans forward, claiming her mouth with an eager kiss. The hard edge of adrenaline and need dulls a little as she finally gets to sweep her hands over skin. Adora’s hands are on her hips, tugging down her pants, and she does not even bother to break the kiss as she steps out of them, kicking them aside as she does so.</p><p>Adora’s pants follow suit, and Catra knows her shirt should probably go, too, but she needs to have Adora against her, preferably half an hour ago. She grips her partner’s hips, dragging her away from the door and toward the nearest flat surface.</p><p>The kitchen table is sturdy – at least, sturdy enough. It is not the first time they have been on it, even if it was far from a habit. Catra kicks her chair aside, hopping up on the table and yanking Adora roughly between her legs, moaning as their bodies finally press together, making the curl of need gripping her spike higher.</p><p>“Off,” Adora insists, groping at the bottom of her shirt, but seeming to lack the coordination to find the hem in the moment. Catra throws a smirk towards her before reaching down and pulling it off in one smooth motion. It gets caught on her mane, but they are both used to that, and Adora gently pulls her free, tossing it aside. As soon as it is gone Adora has her hands on her, gripping at her waist and forcing her to lay back. Catra’s hands find the groove marks she made in the table almost two months ago, and she digs in to anchor herself to <em>something</em> as Adora’s mouth reaches her chest and closes around her nipple. She gasps, arching up into the touch as Adora’s grip on her waist flexes, forcing her to lie back again.</p><p>“Adora,” she whines, strung out and helpless from the mounting desire that has been building ever since the game-winning adrenaline rush.</p><p>“What do you want, kitten?” Adora asks her, pulling back just far enough to make eye contact, her eyes flashing dark. Catra <em>hates</em> that nickname, she really does. She hated it when she was a kid, and it was a condescending jeer on the playground. She hated it when she was a pre-teen, and people used it to belittle her. She<em> should</em> have hated it when she was a teenager, and the only one who ever said it anymore was Adora, no malicious intent ever laced in her words.</p><p>She hates that for some reason, when Adora says it like <em>that,</em> she feels her walls clench and hips stutter forward. Adora does not miss it, not if her smirk is anything to do by. Catra feels herself flush, heating pouring through her body as she drops her head back against the table so she does not have to see that <em>smug</em> expression. She manages to extract one hand from the table and grip at Adora’s ponytail.</p><p>“<em>Your mouth</em>,” she orders, barely above a growl, tugging roughly. Adora stutters out a moan, already moving down her body, trailing kisses as she goes. Her mouth meets her immediately, no further foreplay needed after the agony of the drive home. She had to keep her hands fisted in her lap from the effort of keeping them off Adora. The need between Catra’s thighs <em>burns</em> as Adora finally meets her.</p><p>Adora’s mouth is hot and insistent against her, licking a long stripe along her before she presses a kiss to her clit and <em>sucks</em>. Catra whines, trying to arch off the table as need throbs through her. She finds herself totally pinned by Adora’s grip, and it only makes her muscles clench down on nothing.</p><p>Fine, Adora wants to be in charge this time. Catra huffs, tightening her hand in Adora’s hair briefly in acknowledgement before she drops it back to the table, letting Adora take what she wants. She feels Adora smirk against her for a moment before she is pressing the flat of her tongue against her, hard and demanding. Catra digs her claws in to the tabletop, moaning at the pressure against her and the way it offers no relief, only making the heat inside her build.</p><p>Finally satisfied she will not try to move, Adora slides her hands down from her waist. She leaves one on her hip, a firm reminder, before the other trails down between her legs. She feels Adora’s fingers sliding over her entrance before she sets her mouth to work again. Catra gasps from the effort of staying still, clutching at the table desperately as Adora’s mouth works over her and she finally presses in with that slow, careful stroke she always does to start. Catra wishes she could grind her hips down onto it as the stretch finally fills her, nerve endings lighting on fire in a joyous chorus.</p><p>Adora might not want her to move, but there is plenty Catra can do to her without actually having to <em>touch</em>. Her need is a thrumming energy under her skin she needs to release <em>somehow</em>. “Do you have any idea what it is like, having to watch you move on the field?” Catra asks her, voice breathless and ragged, but <em>taunting</em> still. “Watch the way your muscles move, knowing how they flex when you fuck me? I could have taken you in the <em>locker room</em>, Adora,” Catra gasps out. Adora stutters a moan against her, the grip on her hip flexing. Catra cannot help but arch up, gasping at the vibration, feeling her heat throb under Adora’s tongue. Adora’s grip keeps her in place. It makes her walls clench around her, mindlessly seeking <em>more</em>.</p><p>The words finally get Adora to start stroking into her properly, establishing a rough rhythm that is <em>just</em> what Catra needs after all the adrenaline. “<em>Yes</em>, Adora. So good for me,” she praises. She gasps as Adora crooks her fingers on the next stroke, hitting her in the spot that makes heat flare within her and her back arch. Adora sucks against her hard and Catra realizes this is not going to take long <em>at all</em>.</p><p>“Your mouth feels so good, babe. You, ah, always take such good care of me,” she assures, breath hitching with the delicious movement Adora’s thrusts. Adora groans, sending vibrations through her that make her shiver as Adora shifts restlessly between her legs. Her thrusts are quick and uneven now, her own desperation starting to leak through. Praise always does it for her. Catra is panting at this point, tension gathering in all her limbs as she lies back and trembles.</p><p>“Harder, princess. Take me like you want to,” Catra gasps out, words barely leaving her before Adora’s pace is quickening, fingers curling to hit right into that spot again. Her mouth is still working rough over her, and Catra is hardly aware of anything but the building pressure and heat between her legs, the way her walls clench down on Adora as she thrusts into her. She throws her head back, crying out as her entire body rocks with Adora thrusts, the friction between her legs almost too much too bear. As the final peak reaches her, she clenches down on Adora’s fingers and the intensity of the sudden pressure is too much. Her orgasm hits her with force, making her muscles shake and vision white out as her body mindlessly struggles for <em>relief</em>.</p><p>Adora’s touch is gentle on her, when she is able to register it again. Her hands are light on her thighs, stroking slowly down them as she presses gentle, open-mouthed kisses against her. Catra moans, twitching against the brushing touch as aftershocks roll through her.</p><p>“So good to me,” she mumbles to her, spent and breathless, as one of her hands finally manages to let go of the table and find its way into Adora’s hair again. Adora pulls back enough for Catra to see her smile up at her, soft and warm despite the way her lips are <em>glistening</em>.</p><p>Adora bends down again, pressing gentle kisses to the insides of Catra’s thighs as her aftershocks continue to roll through her, making her muscles twitch under Adora’s mouth. Adora licks gently against her folds, cleaning up the mess she made of her slick with her fingers. Catra gasps, hips rolling a bit uselessly as her body stirs with the question of <em>more</em>, but she forces it down, tugging lightly at Adora’s hair. Adora scatters a few more kisses against her thighs, hip, stomach, chest as she lets Catra guide her up so their mouths can finally meet again. Catra hums happily into the kiss, her hands trailing down Adora’s back as she appreciatively strokes the strong muscles there.</p><p>“Enjoying yourself?” Adora asks her, pulling back enough for Catra’s vision to focus on her face again. Her voice is breathless, the ghost of a satisfied grin on her lips, but her eyes are still blown out, face flushed from her own arousal. Catra hums, carefully sliding her claws out so she can trail them lightly down Adora’s back and watch the way it makes her eyes flutter, body trembling against her.</p><p>“I know how I could have some more fun,” she tells her, conversationally.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>After Catra returns the favour, pink lines trailing down Adora’s stomach from where she had carefully raked her claws along her, tongue fucking into her roughly as Adora came apart – after <em>that</em>, they finally make their way to the bed.</p><p>“We need a new table,” Catra yawns, stretching out beside her before wrapping around her side. She tangles their legs together, draping her tail across them and settling her head on Adora’s shoulder. Adora hums, wordlessly, content to just hold her lover and stroke along the stripes on her back and shoulders.</p><p>“I love you,” she murmurs, because she feels happy, satiated, <em>content</em>.</p><p>“I love you, too,” Catra purrs back, turning her head to tuck her nose into Adora’s pulse point.</p><p>“Did you see Lonnie’s face when we started making out after that goal?” Adora asks, laugh rolling through her as the memory surfaces now the haze of need has finally subsided.</p><p>“Fuck Lonnie, did you see <em>Shadow’s</em>?” Catra laughs, ecstatic, nuzzling into her. “I think she burst a blood vessel. Being on the field with you is always electric, but that was <em>intense</em>.”</p><p>Adora glances down at the raised lines on her stomach, stinging in a delicious way as every breath she takes forces them to shift.</p><p>“<em>Intense</em> is a start, yeah,” she breathes.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Remember what Catra said about how Adora used to eat her out in chapter one? Yeah it seemed the right time to circle back on it. I really struggled to find a way to describe oral sex that did not actually sound gross, so hopefully I did okay lmao. I don’t know why I keep including smut scenes in this fic when I’ve hardly ever written smut.<br/>ALRIGHT we’re finally done. This was SUPPOSED to be the epilogue, but I just made it part of the main fic because I couldn’t get their eventual proposal out of my head and needed to add it on as the epilogue instead. So expect a short little time skip tomorrow.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. The Proposal (Epilogue)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Let’s get married,” Adora gasps, beaming and joyful. Catra’s eyes crinkle with her smile as she leans in for another kiss.<br/>“Okay,” she purrs.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It’s here folks. The end of this weird ass crazy fic that started as a character study (and bathroom sex). I had this scene in my head but didn’t plan to include it in the fic. Then y’all had to talk about proposing in the comments so I had to just go for it because I love it and it really shows how far Catra has come and how far she HASN’T.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They knew they were going to win by the time the final quarter started. Stolen points can take even the highest lead, but it really did not matter, not at this point, not with the duos they had on the field. Still, the adrenaline rush when time is called and Bright Moon <em>wins,</em> wins the game, wins the playoffs, wins the <em>season</em> has Adora gasping for air. Adora does not have to turn to find Catra, her girlfriend is already by her side, beaming as she throws herself into her arms. Catra wraps her legs around her waist, Adora raises her arms to support her, and they fumble a clumsy kiss around the grins neither of them can force down.</p><p>It is not uncommon for duos to kiss when they win a game or score a point. The sport is intense, the rush of adrenaline often taking over even for duos that are otherwise platonic. Many duos end up together, in life or in marriage. Catra and Adora have become notorious for their celebrations since joining Bright Moon this season, the new highs they can reach unparalleled thanks to the freedom they now have and love finally spoken between them.</p><p>Despite its familiarity, the feeling clutching Adora’s chest is still choking in intensity. As she stares up as Catra’s beaming face, she can only think one thing.</p><p>“Let’s get married,” she gasps, beaming and joyful. Catra’s eyes crinkle with her smile as she leans in for another kiss.</p><p>“Okay, princess,” she purrs in agreement.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>If they had not known they were going to win the match for so long, the adrenaline rush of winning playoffs with Adora probably would have had her dragging her lover out of the arena as soon as the game was called. As it is, the adrenaline is not so intense she cannot enjoy the other ways of celebrating available to them, first.</p><p>Half the team ends up in a group-hug-turned-tackle, an ecstatic mess of bodies, teammates, <em>friends</em>. When they finally extract themselves from the court, the celebrations, and the cheering, there are reporters waiting for them. Catra lets herself be pulled along by Adora, her lover still breathlessly happy as they are flagged down by the most petite woman Catra has ever seen.</p><p>“Adora! Catra!” the woman calls, waving rapidly in their direction. She beams at them as Adora pulls them over to stop in front of her. “You’ve won your first playoffs, with a brand-new team no less. How do you plan to celebrate?” the woman asks them, holding a microphone out for them. Catra looks to Adora, unable to wipe the grin off her face. Catra almost always lets Adora lead these things. Catra is in the sport for the adrenaline rush, not the attention, but Adora loves to soak in it, and Catra is happy to let her.</p><p>Adora turns to look to her, dropping her grip on her hand to instead wrap her arm around Catra’s waist and pull her flush against her side. Adora is sweating and practically burning up from exertion, but Catra drapes herself on her lover’s shoulder happily.</p><p>“Ring shopping,” Adora beams to the reporter.</p><p>Catra’s brain comes to a shuddering halt. She feels the flush spreading up her face as she smiles sheepishly at the reporter, who is already gushing at Adora’s announcement.</p><p><em>Let’s get married</em>. She had said it, and Catra had said yes, happy and ecstatic, but a part of her had still hardly believed it. Had told her not to get her hopes up, that it was probably the adrenaline rush. That Adora might not even bring it up again. That it was not even a proposal, not really, just a suggestion they do it at some point, in the indistinct and distant future.</p><p>A purr rumbles through Catra, radiating into Adora as she answers questions about what the postseason holds for them.</p><p>“I’m sorry to cut this short, but my <em>fiancé</em> and I have a victory party to get to,” Catra cuts in as the woman starts to ask another question. It is true, probably – Glimmer will surely drag them <em>somewhere</em> to celebrate – but Catra just wants to <em>say</em> it, and more than that, she just wants to get Adora <em>alone</em>.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Adora is crying, because of course she is, not a soul in the world expecting her to make it through their vows without tears pouring. Catra is holding her hand, trying to bite down her own tears as she beams at her, speech coming to a stuttering halt as they just <em>stare</em> at each other.</p><p>“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Catra breathes, staring at her in wonder as she seems to rally, swallowing and taking a half-step closer. “I imagined this a hundred different ways. Imagined the ceremony, the proposal. I imagined me asking you, you asking me… When you finally said it, it took me so long to catch up with the fact it was really happening. It was not until you were telling a reporter we were going ring shopping it really clicked that you wanted this, too. That I would finally be yours, and you would be mine,” she tells her, breathless and joyous. Adora’s tears are practically a fountain. She knows she must look a wreck in her white dress, makeup likely ruined, but she does not <em>care</em>.</p><p>“Oh, babe, really?” she asks weakly, clutching at Catra’s hands. Catra laughs, and the sound rolls through the gathered guests as well.</p><p>“I thought maybe it was the adrenaline of playoffs,” she admits, sheepishly, but her gaze is nothing but warmth and love.</p><p>“You’re an idiot,” Adora tells her, fondly. Catra reaches up to brush her tears away, gently. It only makes more fall.</p><p>“Maybe, but I’m yours, now.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>They’re fucking stupid. Love that for them. Thanks for being here for this wildly personal and self-indulgent ride of a dream-turned-fanfiction. Your guys’ comments have really made my day whenever I posted.<br/>I wrote this fic over the course of 8 days, starting on the day I posted it, and I was editing up until this final update. This was a WILD amount of writing to do in just over a week, especially because every day I would start my writing by rereading from the very beginning to ensure the tone remained somewhat consistent. This was just a really cool challenge and experiment to do so thank you to everybody who took part in it!<br/>EDIT: I had more thoughts, so I wrote a little <a href="https://n7punk.tumblr.com/post/625994005273034752/im-bored-and-i-still-have-so-many-thoughts-and">essay on my tumblr</a> with a bunch of trivia about the fic.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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